Page 84 of Reckless Devotion

PEPPER

“We can’t just let ourselves in,” Chase hisses, peering through the foliage at the house bathed in afternoon sunshine.

“It’s not breaking and entering if the door is hanging off.”

He looks at me like I’ve just offered him the last bite of pizza after I’ve already chewed it. “We really need to work on this whole law-breaking thing of yours.”

I roll my lips inward, and look back at the blue painted door that hangs limply from its hinges, exposing a slither of the brown leather couch in the living room. He’s kind of got a point.

I’m finally accepting that something has irreversibly changed between us, and whilst that scares the hell out of me, I’ve got far bigger fish to fry right now. The man crouched beside me is magnetic, drawing every part of myself that I usually like to hide in dark, dusty corners out into the light.And boy does he look good while he does it, all curated suits and perfectly wind-tousled hair—I’ve gone and landed myself a freaking cover boy for GQ.

“What if we’re just two citizens concerned for our neighbors’ health? He could have been kidnapped!” I cast a hand in the direction of the busted hinge.

Chase sighs, dipping his face into his hand and pressing into his eyes. “I can’t believe you’ve got me sitting in a fucking bush.”

I grin, because he does look ridiculous trying to hide behind fern plants that quite frankly aren’t large enough to conceal him. “Comeon!”

“Fine, but don’t come moaning to me when we both end up slapped into jail.” He stands, offering me his hand.

I take it without hesitation, something that six weeks ago I wouldn’t have dreamed of, and allow him to pull me up. He opens his mouth, but I cut across him, not wanting to hear the same thought roll off his own tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a changed woman, let’s go.” I stomp through the fern, feeling the feathery prongs whip my legs.

“No, seriously—”

“Can we just focus on the job, please?” I flip a piece of stray hair out of my face and start making my way up the overgrown path to the back door.

The front of the house had been unassuming, a one-bedroom ground floor overlooking narrow streets filled with brick row houses, splashes of yellow and red bricks mixed together. It was only when we managed to sneak into the row of narrow backyards that we discovered the open door. It’s unkempt, with patchy grass and a rose bush that has grown wild from years of being untended, some of the vines as thick as my wrist.

“Yes ma’am, as you wish,” Chase drawls from behind in a manner that I just know will be accompanied by a salute.

I’m about to throw a smart reply over my shoulder, or at least try to conjure one up, when the sight before me stops me in my tracks. Weeds spill over the mat that sits by the back door, which is littered with cigarette ends and an empty plant pot filled with rainwater. But what really shocks me is the state of the living room inside.

Although sparsely furnished, dining chairs are upended near the poky yellow kitchen back toward the front of the house, and a dresser has every drawer removed, clothes and letters strewn across the navy carpet.

“Holy shit, maybe he actually did get kidnapped?” Chase appears at my back, peering over my shoulder so that his delicious scent wraps around me.

Bert Lancaster works for a company called Everlune Securities, an external contractor hired by Dev Ops Inc. to secure his New York-based plants. We can’t find anything evenremotely sus about the New Jersey-based firm, except for an unpaid tax bill from three years ago.

I take another look at the mess, searching for signs of a struggle. “I don’t think so, nothing is broken, it’s more like…” I step inside and look at the walls, devoid of any photos, but with some squares left behind that haven’t been bleached by the sun streaming in through the window.

“It’s more like someone packed some stuff and left in a hurry,” Chase finishes from behind me.

“Yeah! How did you know I was going to say that?” I whirl around and see him crouched again, examining dusty footprints in the dried mud—which presumably was once grass—closest to the house.

“There is a set of footprints leading up to the house, and then away, but the ones leading away are deeper, like the person was carrying something heavy.” He twists his head and stands, moving to examine the door, picking up the broken and dangling bolt. “He knew it was deadlocked from the inside, and presumably he didn’t want to be seen…which means someone might have been watching the front and waiting for him.”

I lift my eyebrows in surprise. I’ll admit, Ineverwould have noticed that, and I’m the one he’s supposedly brought in for my investigation skills.

“What?” He notices my attention.

“That big brain of yours is pretty damn sexy, Walker,” I admit, watching his mouth quirk into a crooked smile.

He offers me a smug little bow, and places a swift peck on my lips as he blows past into the house, having to duck to not hit his head on the light fitting.

“No wife, no kids, no savings…no debts.” He reels off the things we know about the security guard, more to himself than anything as he cases the edges of the room, pausing to inspect items every now and then. He peers into an empty dresserdrawer that has a sweater caught in the metal handle, trailing down to the floor. “And no sense to take evidence with him.”

I narrow my eyes on the small scrap of paper he plucks from the bottom of the drawer, quickly covering the distance between us so that I can read it with him.