Chapter 13

Lara had had a long and trying last shift of her three, and the commute home had been riddled with slow drivers, people who refused to use their blinkers, and every single red light between the hospital and her apartment.

Her week had started off strong with her scrubbing for Dr. Lima, but it had all gone downhill from there. And today had been the rotten cherry on top of a crap sundae.

Working with Dr. Baumgartner was unbearable on a good day, but after riding her Dr. Lima high, time spent with him felt like being in hell serving Hades himself—hand and foot.

Maybe Hades was an overstatement, but her day had seemed awfully long because of him.

All she wanted was to order takeout, light some candles, and eat noodles while soaking in a tub. At least now she had the next three days off—no way was she letting a shitty commute and a rude doctor ruin that for her.

And then she saw it.

Her stupid neighbor’s door was open, and Lara knew for a fact that he was not home. She also now knew that he had not fixed his door as she had advised.

On top of that, he had neglected to change his mailing address, as made evident by the envelope she was angrily clutching. But all of that was secondary to the tiny brown dog now stomping its little body out of the apartment and down the hall.

It bounded straight for her and happily sniffed and licked away at her ankles, not at all bothered that she had been on her feet for the last twelve hours and no doubt smelled like it.

With a sigh, she ducked down and scooped the pug up. “Your dad is an asshole, you know,” she said as she took the dog back to Zavien’s apartment, but she hesitated in front of the door.

It was open enough that she could have set the dog down and let it walk back into its home, but she wasn’t certain that simply closing the door would keep it shut; she suspected only a deadbolt would do the trick.

She glanced down at the dog as if it could give her a better solution, but its big brown eyes stared back up at her, reflecting the same cluelessness she felt. She sighed again before letting herself in and silently cursed Zavien for putting her in this position.

Trespassing was not something she wanted to get used to doing, but she couldn’t deny that she was curious to see how the spawn of the devil lived. And then, when the pug under her arm snorted, she forgot about any guilt.

After a few furtive glances around to be sure no one was in the hall, she slipped into his apartment.

It was a mirrored layout of her own, except for the way his furniture was laid out. And by that, she meant there wasn’t really any furniture at all—only the bare essentials.

In the living area, a raggedy little couch faced a bookshelf, with a stereo system set up in the corner. Against the wall opposite the bedroom, a scratched-up wooden desk stood beside a chair that looked like it would give her splinters if she got too close.

She would have assumed he was short on cash, but the shiny, sleek laptop on the desk and the key fob with the Audi logo hanging by the door suggested otherwise. Lara was no car girl, but she knew that was far nicer than anything she had ever driven.

Also by the door were a shoe rack with exactly two pairs of shoes and a small table topped with a baseball cap and a stack of black masks.

Maybe he was a hypochondriac.

Or maybe he felt bad about having a face that opposed his dreadful personality and wanted to spare the public any misconceptions.

Or maybe he was just a weirdo.

The pug’s water and food bowls were set up beside the fridge on the opposite side of the apartment, and Lara set the dog down beside them, giving it a little pat on its head when it started drinking.

She dropped Zavien’s mail on his kitchen island beside a well-used notebook that lay open in front of one of the two barstools set up there. Tempted to pry, she glanced at the little dog, which watched her curiously over its water bowl.

Certain that the pug lacked the means and motive to rat her out, Lara peeked at the open pages in front of her.

In the fold, seemingly being used as a bookmark, was a business card belonging to someone named Anya Moreau, a manager. Manager of what, Lara couldn’t tell, because the card was so old, frayed, and faded.

Whoever Anya was, her business card had landed itself in Zavien’s planner, and boy, was he a busy guy.

Scribbled in his agenda were a few cafés that Lara recognized, but mostly, there were a lot of acronyms. Some she also recognized, like KPL Riverside, 3 p.m.—6 p.m., which was odd because why would anyone need to book in three hours at a public library?

On the other side of town, no less.

There were a couple more like that scattered throughout different areas of the city; one was even at her alma mater, Kinsley University, on its south campus—was he guest lecturing there?

But the most frequent flier in Zavien’s schedule was PTP Tower, whatever that meant. It was his only entry for today, and she assumed he was there now since his note gave the time range of 2 p.m.—???

PTP was on there a bunch, sometimes paired with a floor number, other times with a phone number, and occasionally referencing “meeting room this” or “boardroom that.”

Her head swimming with acronyms and questions, she figured that was probably enough snooping for one day and headed for the door.

The dog trotted after her, nipping at her heels as she went.

“You have to stay here,” she said. “Even though Zavien is a liar, and I absolutely should rat him out. You’re very cute, though, so I’ll give him one last chance.” She gave the pug one more pat on its head before turning her attention to the malfunctioning door.

Whether the frame had warped or the hinges had loosened, Lara wasn’t sure, but the door was not aligned, and no amount of wiggling, lifting, or pushing would get it to latch shut. Try as she might, she couldn’t get it to stay closed.

She sighed, looking over at the little dog sitting comfortably in its bed, watching and waiting for her to come to a conclusion.

As if it could read her mind, the pug hopped up, came to her, and pawed at her leg, whining to be picked up.

“Guess you’re coming home with me, then, huh?” She bent to scratch behind its ear, and the dog snorted in acceptance.