Page 39 of Fully Loaded

A used bath towel hung over the closet door and dirty clothes and rumbled sheets were strewn across the floor. Had Sven or his roommate been this sloppy? Or had someone been here looking for something? He stepped over an empty beer bottle and kicked a pizza box out of the way. A fat cockroach scurried out and he leaped backward. A bark of disgust ripped through his throat followed by a dozen curses. He shook his shoulders and brushed off his arms as if a million of the critters had fallen on him.

“What’s wrong?”

He turned to the doorway. Hands on her hips, Dani was scowling at the unkempt room.

“Sven has cockroaches.”

Her eyes rounded and she gagged. “Ohmigod, this place is disgusting.” She stepped forward and something dangled from her fingers. “I think I found something.”

He reached out and took the torn piece of a cigarette package from her grip. A name and number had been messily scribbled on the blank side:

Giles Artis

06 45 53 91 22

He studied the writing. The phone-number sequence was similar to the one he’d seen printed on the hotel key card. Definitely a Paris number. “Have you heard that name before?”

She grimaced. “Giles rings a bell. I feel like Sven mentioned him before, but I can’t say for sure.” She pulled out her phone and leaned toward the paper as she typed the full name into the search engine. “It’s a long shot, but you never know,” she mumbled. He watched as her thumb scrolled over the links.

“Anything?”

“What’s this?” She clicked on an article and turned so he could see the screen.

He squinted at the tiny letters.

She sucked in her breath and bounced on her toes. “Look.” Excitement bubbled from her lips. “Biochemist Giles Artis suspect in Amsterdam tour-bus bombing,” she read.

He circled his hand around her much smaller one and lifted the device a few inches higher. “The article was published last year. It doesn’t say anything about him being convicted.”

Dani sucked on the corner of her lip. “No, but he’s a biochemist. That’s even more important. Let’s pass it on to Rhett and he can look into it. I think this is the strongest lead we’re going to get.” She took the phone back and her fingers hovered over the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing if he has a social media page,” she said, her voice distant as she moved through profile pictures. “Here, this could be him.”

A picture of a guy with cold blue eyes and long blond hair tied back in a bun filled the screen. He was wearing a lab coat. Brock took the phone and scanned the image then flicked through the rest of his profile pictures. Another shot made him stop. Giles was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, leaning back on a balcony, and a black pentagon with curled edges and animal horns in the center took up Giles’s forearm.

“Bingo.” Brock lowered the phone and Dani grabbed his wrist.

“Holy shit. This has to be who Sven was working for.”

Brock fished his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of the paper with Giles’s name and number on it then sent it to Rhett with the link to the article and the photos of the map along with the social media pictures. He returned the phone to his pocket and hooked his arm around her waist.

“We should get out of here.”

She kept her feet rooted to the carpet and continued to study the balcony image. “Wait a second.”

“What is it?”

She crinkled her forehead and quickly left the bedroom. Brock followed her, not at all disappointed to leave the cockroach-infested room. Her hair trailed down her back in a ponytail, and the dark strands swished from side to side as she moved. She stopped at the balcony door.

“The balcony in the picture looks familiar.” She peeled back the brown fleece material, unlocked the door, and shoved it open. A gust of wind spiraled into the unit, moving the musty air. It should have muted the stench, but somehow the fresh air enhanced the retched smell of smoke and rotten Chinese food. Brock brushed past the coffee table and stepped onto the balcony next to her. Sunlight hit the concrete.

Dani held up the phone in front of her. “Yup. This was taken here.” She pointed to the building next to Sven’s. “See that half-hanging air-conditioning unit in the window? And that black bicycle on the balcony above? Those are behind Giles in the picture.”

“He must have lived here with Sven.” He moved back into the apartment. “I’m going to sweep the other bedroom.” He made his way down the hall and to the second bedroom. After ten minutes of raking through it, he’d come up with only old textbooks and junk—no cockroaches this time.

Dani stood in the kitchen with her hands tucked in the pockets of her sweater. “Anything?”