Debra Webb - First Night

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The realization that he’d likely spoken to her once or twice without her reacting was no doubt the reason for the question.

“Is that your shirt?” If she skirted the question smoothly enough he might leave it alone. “The one in the washer?”

He shook his head. “Kick’s.”

Maybe Kick just liked his whites extra white. That would certainly explain the bleach.

“You ready?” she encouraged, manufacturing a smile of assurance.

“Sure.” He glanced around the kitchen as if he’d just now considered that she had likely looked at everything, hoping to find clues.

Would he worry that she’d found some secret he’d kept? If he was innocent, he had no need to worry. She had already made a preliminary judgment: innocent. That assessment remained subject to change, but she read people fairly well. She picked up no vibes whatsoever that Brandon was the type to hurt another human in this manner. Still, he was guarded.

The hint of suspicion that lingered in his eyes didn’t bother her that much. She figured it was as much to do with her lack of a response when he’d entered the room as anything.

“Don’t forget your coat.” She walked past him and made her way to the front door. There was a coffee shop a few blocks away that would work well for her purposes. She was acquainted with lots and lots of restaurants all over town since she rarely dined at home. The place she had in mind stayed open until eleven, so there was plenty of time. At that point she would decide the best course of action for delving into this case.

After ducking under the tape once more, she waited while Brandon locked the door. His pale blue coat looked lightweight but she knew from the brand, one skiers preferred, that it would keep him warm despite the chilly Chicago weather.

He stood back, allowing her to descend the stairs first. A few steps down, she glanced back to see if he had said anything. That he watched her so closely warned her that he was suspicious to some degree. She would have to share the truth with him—soon.

It was only fair.

She had already made an assessment about his challenges. Approaching the subject would be touchy and would have to wait. Her own challenge, however, would not wait. Yet she put off the inevitable. Selfishly clung to any reprieve. Her previous superior had called her on that strategy many times.

The stairwell abruptly shook as if an earthquake had rocked the entire building or block. Brandon had stopped his downward momentum and now whirled back toward his apartment. With her attention over her shoulder, Merri lost her balance and barely caught the railing before plunging forward.

When the building had stopped shaking, she turned back to check on Brandon and to better assess the situation. The door of his apartment had blown open, and now hung precariously on its hinges. Even as she stared at the unexpected sight, debris drifted downward to settle on the scarred tile floor.

Fear brushed against Merri’s skin.

Not an earthquake or any other natural disaster.

An explosion.

They had just exited the apartment. Fifteen, twenty seconds ago! Her sense of smell was keen. She’d noticed no gas…nothing.

Instinct railed at her.

Get out of the building!

Now!

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