Page 9 of Requiem & Reverie

Running my tongue over my back teeth keeps the tears at bay. I dress quickly, not bothering to look at him, and make my way into the living room. As I slide my shoes from where they’ve fallen beneath the coffee table, my hand hits something smooth and cold. I slide it out from beneath to find a picture.

The woman in the image is lying on her back in the woods, with what looks to be sand spilling out of her eyes. Her body pale and bruised. Gruesome and wrong.

The kind of image that doesn’t go away, but sears itself into the mind.

Hand covering my mouth to keep from gasping aloud, I bend forward to see an unlocked briefcase tucked beneath the table. Carefully sliding it out, so as not to make noise, I open it to reveal files. One of them has my name on it. When I lift it out of the case, I pause. My heart makes one last thump in my chest before my breaths arrive too fast to keep up.

I lift the familiar watch from inside and flip it to see the inscription etched into its rear side. To the moon.

Denny’s watch.

The one they couldn’t find the night of his murder. The one I specifically asked to be returned to Oliver, if it happened to turn up.

Why would Voss have it? How would he have gotten it?

Pieces start to click together, forming a picture that terrifies me, going back to the day he arrived. Perhaps it was only coincidence that I received the first note on my car the same day Voss called to inquire about the apartment. The way he insisted on having this apartment. And how I sometimes catch him staring at me. Watching me. Or the night Voss supposedly scared Harvey off. Perhaps he was leaving another note on my windshield, himself.

Tendrils of panic snake beneath my skin and suddenly the room feels smaller, the air colder. My chest tightens with the snippets of conversation and encounters that flit through my head. I drop the watch into my apron with trembling hands and shove the briefcase back beneath the table.

When I gather up my shoes, Voss is standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Everything okay, Star Wars?”

I force myself to smile, stiffening my muscles to keep him from noticing the trembling. “Just leaving.”

“We’ll talk later, okay? I have some work to catch up on.”

“’Kay.”

He strides toward me, and it takes every muscle in my body to remain still, to keep from alerting him that something is wrong, when he leans forward to kiss me.

My lips are dry and my heart is pounding in my chest, breaths harsh through my nose, but I kiss him back.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m starving. Probably low on sugar. I’m going to grab some food.”

Eyes narrowed, he watches me back myself toward the door, and I suddenly feel like a mouse trapped inside a lion’s cage.

He doesn’t stop me, though, and the moment I’m outside his door, I hustle down the staircase, willing myself not to pull my phone out until I’m in the house.

Through the back door, I drop my shoes and rush to the living room, tugging my phone to dial Jonah.

He doesn’t answer.

“C’mon! Fuck!” The phone fumbles in my hands, and I nearly drop it as I dial him again.

He answers immediately this time.

“Jonah! You need to get over here. Right now!”

“Nola? Is everything okay?”

“No. I … I don’t think so.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Voss.”