On top of the desk was a modem, a router, and a mouse, but no computer. I checked Jake’s bedroom for his laptop, but all I found was an unmade bed and a pile of dirty laundry, along with photos of him, Jonah, and their mother. I recalled in the pre-Amelia days, whenever I used to meet someone for dinner or drinks after work, I always left my briefcase locked in the trunk of my car. I wondered if Jake did the same, then realized I didn’t have to wonder because I still had access to his keys.

I snatched Jake’s key ring from the kitchen counter where I’d set it atop a stack of unopened mail and headed downstairs to the parking garage. I found his laptop inside a messenger bag in his trunk along with more dossiers. I assumed the laptop was password-protected but checked to be sure. After a few failed attempts, I shut the computer. It had taken me months to guess Jonah’s password. I would never be able to guess Jake’s. But I wanted to read the dossiers and it was cold in the garage, so I stuffed everything into the messenger bag and headed back up to Jake’s apartment.

I unlocked the front door and headed straight to the kitchen. I was afraid if I didn’t return Jake’s keys now while I was thinking about it, I would accidentally drive home with them. I placed the key ring on top of the unopened mail and turned to leave. That’s when Jake appeared in front of me.

I screamed and jumped back, banging my head against a kitchen cabinet. “What are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same,” he replied, eyeing his messenger bag, which was still slung over my shoulder, the top unzipped and the files sticking out the top.

“You were sleeping,” I said as if that somehow explained my behavior.

“What are you doing with my bag?”

I said the first thing that popped into my throbbing head. “Well, I didn’t think you’d want to leave it lying around in your car all night.”

“It wasn’t lying around in my car. It was locked in my trunk.”

I had no defense. My only option was offense. “Yes, but I didn’t know that until I got downstairs.”

“And you thought since you were there anyway, you’d search my bag?”

I assumed that was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer.

He yanked the messenger bag off my shoulder and rifled through it.

“I didn’t steal anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He finished searching then zipped the bag shut with the files tucked inside. “Why were you snooping through my things?”

I stayed with offense. “Why were you snooping through my house a few months ago?”

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Is that what this is about? Payback?”

“No. I just want answers. What were you and Jonah up to?”

“We weren’t up to anything.”

I gingerly touched the back of my head and felt the knot that was already forming. I was suddenly very tired. “Please, Jake. Just tell me why Jonah was killed.”

“The shooter was mentally unstable. Probably high on drugs too.”

“Stop lying! You told me he had a rap sheet, that he’d killed before, that you called in the anonymous tip.”

“When?” he said, his anger matching my own.

“Earlier, before you fell asleep.”

Jake stared at me slack jawed then asked, “Did you drug me?”

“No. You got drunk.”

“I thought we both did, but you seem fine. What’d you do? Spill out all your drinks when I wasn’t looking?”

I shook my head. “Virgin margaritas.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, aren’t you clever.”

I didn’t respond.

“Wait here,” Jake said pointing his finger at me. Then stomped off into his bedroom with the messenger bag.

I should’ve gone home. I wish I had. But I was distracted. How was Jake even awake? He was passed out when I left for the parking garage. And I made sure not to let the door slam shut when I let myself back in. Then I spotted the bottle of acetaminophen on the counter and the empty glass in the sink. He must’ve gotten up for aspirin while I was downstairs. He was probably in the bathroom when I snuck back in.

Jake reappeared without his messenger bag and headed straight to the refrigerator. He pulled out a can of Coke and split it between two glasses. He shoved one of the glasses into my hand and held up the other. “Salud!” he said and gulped down his soda. I took a sip from mine then said, “I should leave.”

“No. You came here for answers, and you deserve them. Drink up.”

I swigged my Coke and followed him into the living room.

He sat down on the couch and motioned for me to join him. I took a seat on the opposite end and waited for him to speak.

“Tell me everything you know,” he said.

“How about you tell me everything you know?”

He sighed. “Grace, I’ll tell you what I can, but when I keep things from you it’s to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

He didn’t answer.

“The Russian mob?”

His eyebrows shot up, but he still said nothing.

“Does it have something to do with the flash drive?” I finally asked.

“What flash drive?”

“Isn’t that what you were looking for at my house that day?”

And that’s the last thing I remember.

Chapter 34

I opened my eyes and stared down at the weird stripes of light on the carpet, but my head ached so bad I shut them again. The next time I opened my eyes I realized those weird stripes of light were coming from the venetian blinds in Jake’s living room. I rolled over onto my back and covered my eyes with my forearm. I had the worst hangover of my life. My entire head was pounding, and I thought I might vomit. I waited for the wave of nausea to pass before I opened my eyes again. I was fully clothed with a blanket covering me.

I forced myself upright and another wave of nausea hit. While I waited for it to pass, I heard someone moving around in the kitchen. I called out Jake’s name and the effort forced me to lie down and close my eyes again.