She turned her camera to the computer screen and pressed Play. Hank’s security footage started to play, showing the front of his house, aiming down to his front door. Nothing of note happened until a minute into the video. That was when a masked figure walked into frame, head down and body stiff, with something that looked like a needle in hand. The figure pulled out a key and opened the front door, walking straight into Hank’s house.
Five minutes later, the figure hurried out, hands appearing empty and mask still on. They wore a dark black long-sleeve shirt and pants, leaving zero ways to distinguish them except that they were on the taller and slimmer side.
But still. It was proof. A vital piece of this puzzle, and Austin seemed to be just as excited by it as me. “Holy shit, okay, this could be huge. Jesus, Anya, you’re a fucking star. A rock star. Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” she said, coming back onto the screen. “Now take off your shirts again.”
More laughter, this time coming easier than the last. I still felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, but at least it didn’t have all its weight on me.
“That’s all I was able to find for now. I’m working on phone records and texts, along with emails and internet searches. Hopefully I can dig something else up for you, Austin.”
“You’ve done more than enough. Thanks again.”
“I’m getting back to work. I’ll email you everything I found so far and call if anything else comes up.”
She gave another wink and cut the call, the screen fading to black. I turned to Austin on the couch, jaw practically on my lap. “This is big, right?”
“Huge,” Austin replied, and I could tell by the light in his hazel eyes that he wasn’t lying. “I can force the department to open Hank’s case back up with this. And it also narrows my suspects down. We know that whoever killed Hank had a key.”
“The only person we know had a key to Hank’s was…”
“Domino.”
My brows jerked up. “You think he did it? But then why would he be after me?”
“Maybe the murder isn’t related to whatever you two were working on. Or maybe Hank gave his key to someone else. He and Domino weren’t dating for very long, so he must not have been very protective over those keys.” Austin smiled and gave me a small sense of reassurance. “We’re getting close.”
“I hope so, Austin, cuz this is starting to get to me. Bad. I’m really feeling a kind of fear I didn’t think I’d ever feel. It makes it hard to breathe sometimes, and tonight… with the blood… fuck.”
The elephant shifted so that it sat its entire ass on my chest. I took in a deep breath, but it barely made it to the bottom of my lungs before I felt it forced back out. My hands were anxious, tight fists on my thighs.
Austin surprised me then by cupping my head in his hands and pulling me in, kissing me on the forehead, and whispering against me.
“It’s all going to be okay. Just like that one time you bombed your biology midterm.” He kissed me again, keeping his lips against my skin. “Smooth sculpting.”
And, just like that, a memory came slamming to the forefront.
Nothing felt worse than failing an exam you were sure you aced. Like so sure that I came out of the classroom fist-pumping and gloating, only to get slapped in the face by a big ol’ red F.
F for fuck my fucking life.
Fuck.
By the time I made it to my dorm, I had really beaten myself up about it. I knew my parents would be fuming and would likely threaten to cut off money if I didn’t get my grades together. And that scared me, sure, but I could go find a job somewhere and be fine. It wasn’t so much the money that worried me. It was letting my parents down, making them think less of me. I never wanted that to happen, and failing out of my scholarship would have done exactly that.
I got into the dorm and slumped onto the firm couch, dropping my book bag at my feet and bumping my head against the wall behind me.
“Rough day?” Austin asked.
My roommate, my best friend, my confidant, my teammate.
My secret and forbidden lover.
He sat down next to me, casually resting an arm on the back of the couch, his hand coming really close to my right shoulder.
I didn’t move. “I bombed my exam. If my GPA drops by one more point, I’m done. I’ll be dropped by my scholarship, and I doubt I could get into any grad program. I’d be done. Fuck.”
“You won’t be done, Char. No one’s ever done because of bad grades. No one even gives a fuck about your report card once you’re out in the real world. The only people stressing about grades are counselors and the budget department at the school.”