Page 87 of Keeping Knight

Gripping Sampson’s collar, I try to keep him behind me. “He won’t attack,” I blurt. “Not with that command. He won’t hurt you. Don’t shoot him. Please.”

The man with the gun regards me. Then he cocks the trigger and points the gun at my head. “Move,” he orders.

“Why? What—” My feet take several unsteady steps back as the firefighter advances on me. “I don’t understand. What do you want?”

“What do I want?” The barrel of the gun jabs my forehead. “It’s a little too late for that, Ruby. You had your chance.” With his other hand, he flips up his visor. “But you picked wrong.”

Chapter Nineteen

MICAH

“I don’t like this.”

As I burst onto the sidewalk outside Ruby’s building, I glance over at Rogue. “It’s too convenient,” I continue. “For it to happen now? While I’m gone? I have a bad feeling about it.”

Keeping pace to my right, Rogue yanks out his phone and starts typing without missing a step. “It might be a coincidence,” he replies. “Don’t assume the worst. Not yet.”

“How can I not?” Darting around a woman with a double stroller, I race towards the intersection, intent on hitting it before the light turns. Not that I have any plans of stopping, but it’ll be easier to get across if I don’t have to dodge Manhattan traffic to do it. “I’m gone for two hours and this happens. Two damn hours. What are the odds?”

“Not great,” he concedes. “But it could be a false alarm.”

“There’s smoke. Ruby said they were evacuating the floor.” Keeping one eye on the pedestrian traffic and the other on my phone, I pull up the video feed from the hallway outside my condo. The hallway is empty now, and the smoke has dissipated from when I last looked at it. The emergency lights are still flashing. But when I tap the speaker to listen, the alarms are off.

“I’m checking the status of the response.” Rogue takes another quick look at his phone. “Looks like two stations responded already. Nine-one-one calls reported smoke on the thirty-ninth floor. They’re moving everyone to the thirty-sixth floor.”

Just as we reach the intersection, the walk light begins to flash. Putting on an extra burst of speed, I sprint across the street. Instead of slowing when I reach the other side, I keep running as fear urges me forward.

Ruby’s in trouble. I know it. From the moment I read her text about the fire alarm, my gut just knew.

The timing is too damn perfect. We get a lead, and not two hours after I leave to investigate it, the fire alarm goes off, forcing Ruby to leave the safety of the condo.

“Have you gotten hold of Beau?” I ask.

Rogue sounds grim. “Not yet.” He sidesteps a teenager wearing giant headphones and singing at the top of his lungs, then taps his phone and lifts it to his ear. After a few seconds, he shakes his head. “Still no answer.”

“Shit,” I curse loudly. An older woman shoots me a scolding look as I pass her, and out of habit, I mutter, “Sorry.”

“There could be an explanation,” Rogue says. He’s not out of breath, even though we’re running at full speed. But then again, neither am I. “If they’re in a stairwell, with all the fireproofing…”

“Maybe,” I concede. A quick glance at the street sign tells me we’re still ten blocks from my place. It’s a pleasant walk on a good day, but today? It feels like I’m ten light-years away, instead.

Although if I tried to find a ride right now, it would be even worse. With the traffic as bad as it is, I could be stuck for twice as long as it would take to run. The subway? Far too unreliable. A bus? Forget it.

For the next few blocks, Rogue and I run in relative silence. He keeps trying to reach Beau. I keep calling Ruby. And the more time that passes without either of them responding, the more my worry grows.

When we’re six blocks out, Rogue veers closer to me. “Still nothing from Beau. But I’ve got Jester and Wraith heading over. I still think it could be nothing. Probably is nothing. But better safe than sorry.”

“Do you really think it’s nothing?” I shoot back. “After hearing what Haverford had to say?”

“I don’t know,” he replies after a few seconds’ thought. “On paper, it makes sense.”

On paper, it does. We have an older, single guy living in close proximity to Ruby. As the manager of the building, he would know all the ins-and-outs of it—where the few security cameras were located, which fire escape was Ruby’s, and if anyone saw him lingering around her apartment, it could easily be explained away as maintenance. And that’s only the circumstantial evidence. Combined with the positive ID on the surveillance footage and the photos of Ruby we found on Haverford’s computer⁠—

My jaw clenches as the memory comes back to me. Looking over Rogue’s shoulder at the hidden folders on Haverford’s hard drive, and opening one of them to find dozens of photos of Ruby inside.

Ruby walking into the building, her arms laden with grocery bags.

Ruby in the laundry room, obviously oblivious to the camera on her.