Chapter 6: A Deadline Before Morning
My apartment looked untouched.
I checked the windows, the narrow hall closet, and the bedroom door. Nothing had been forced. My laptop remained on the desk. My identification was in the kitchen drawer where I had left it.
Emmett stayed near the entrance.
“You’ve been here before,” I said.
“No.”
“You knew which floor.”
“The superintendent said it on the phone.”
I had not heard him say it, but I could not prove he hadn’t.
In the bathroom, I cleaned the cut in my foot. Gravel had opened a shallow line beneath the arch. I wrapped it with gauze from the cabinet and changed into dry socks. When I returned, Emmett was examining the printed move-out authorization on my counter without touching it.
The signature resembled mine. The loops were right. The final stroke was not.
I photographed every page.
My phone rang while I was zooming in on the submission time. The number was blocked.
Emmett saw the screen. “You don’t have to answer.”
“That hasn’t helped yet.”
I accepted the call and turned on the speaker.
Dean’s breathing came through first, quick and uneven.
“Jillian?”
I said nothing.
“I need you to listen.”
“Were you at my building?”
“Yes.”
“Did you cancel my lease?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“Someone used my account.”
“I know.”
Emmett moved closer to the counter. Dean heard the movement.
“Is Carbone there?”
I looked at Emmett. His expression did not change.
“You saw the Navigator,” I said.
“I saw you get into it.”
“Why were you chasing me?”
“To stop you from leaving with something that wasn’t yours.”
My fingers returned to the tear in my coat lining.
“What am I carrying?”
“A storage device.”
Emmett’s gaze dropped to my hand.
Dean continued. “It was placed in the wrong coat. I realized after you left the house.”
“What house?”
“The one behind the gate.”
I remembered the dark driveway, the gravel, and the weight of my phone in my fist. I remembered Dean coming after me. I did not remember anyone near enough to touch my coat.
“Who put it there?”
“I can’t explain this over the phone.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Bring it to the records counter at the library tomorrow. Nine in the morning.”
The library again.
“What happens at nine?”
“The move-out request becomes final at noon. The bank dispute gets reviewed after that. If you return the device, I can show both were filed under false instructions.”
“You expect me to trust you?”
“No. I expect you to want your life back.”
Emmett reached for the phone. I pulled it away.
“Why did you call me Julian?” I asked.
Silence pressed against the line.
“I didn’t.”
“I heard it.”
“I was shouting your name.”
The words were careful, not confused.
“Who else was there?”
“Jillian, bring the device at nine.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“If Carbone opens it, the situation changes.”
“How?”
Dean exhaled. “People will stop treating this as a mistake.”
The call ended.
I stared at the blank screen. Emmett crossed to the window and looked down toward the Navigator. A sedan moved slowly past the pharmacy, continued through the intersection, then disappeared.
“You knew it was a device,” I said.
“I knew you were carrying information.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
I reached through the torn lining and drew out a black flash drive no longer than my thumb. There was no label, only a shallow scratch across one side.
Emmett did not reach for it.
“That is what he wants,” he said.
“He says you can’t open it.”
“He hopes I can’t.”
“You paid to keep me here. You brought me to the library. Now I have exactly what you were waiting for.”
“All true.”
I closed my fist around the drive. “Then tell me why I shouldn’t walk downstairs and hand it to Dean.”
“Because he had enough access to close your home and freeze your money before asking for it back.”
“And you had enough access to undo part of it.”
His calm slipped for an instant. “Only part.”
May you like
I set an alarm for seven-thirty.
At nine, Dean expected me at the library. At noon, my apartment might cease to be mine. Between those hours, Emmett’s payment was the only reason I still had a locked door.
