Page 92 of The Devils They Are

I don't slow down as I pass, but I hit the call button on my car touch screen, listening to the ringing sound that echoes throughout the cab.

"Good timing," Tai laughs, answering.

"Why's that?"

By the speed of his voice, I'd deduce that he's had a few cups of coffee already. Reaching for my water bottle, I wait for him to fill me in.

"I was just about to call you."

"Oh. Maybe we're developing twin telepathy now. Hope Sophia doesn't mind sharing."

Tai snorts. "She'd sell me off for books any day of the week. But that's beside the point."

"Well, you go first. Lady and all."

"Ha, very funny, Ry," he pauses. "I just found some updates I thought you might be interested in."

Pulling up a red light, I relax in my seat. "Hit me."

"Spencer's lapdog just posted in their Facebook group. Apparently, the funeral is today. He's asking for people to turn up to support her."

"That's not surprising," I mumble, spotting the Starbucks up ahead and trying to decide if I want caffeine after my run. "But it explains why she was out of it last night."

Tai hums in thought. "You should have seen it, Ry. Spencer was a mess. You could tell her mind wasn't there."

"You feel bad for her," I point out, astonished. It's the first time I've really heard him have sympathy for Bexley, other than when we discovered what happened to her mother.

"Just being a caring algebra partner," he says back quickly. "That's not all though."

"Okay…"

He stops for a moment. "I may have driven past the warehouse this morning on my way to get coffee. Spencer's truck is still parked there."

I frown. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," he grumbles, annoyed. "Despite being tired and a little delirious, I'm not hallucinating motor vehicles now."

Ditching the lane to Starbucks, I rejoin the traffic, heading toward the outskirts of town. "I'll go check. You said she was hurt last night."

"Not badly," he argues weakly. "But probably wouldn't be a bad thing to check."

A smile forces its way onto my face. "Are you starting to care for her, T?"

"No."

His quick response makes me laugh, but who am I to judge?

Tai stays on the call until I arrive at the warehouse a few minutes later, obviously tracking my GPS coordinates. He tells me I'm there before I even voice it out loud, and I promptly end the call much to his annoyance.

But he's correct. It's definitely Bexley's truck in the parking lot.

Pulling up beside it, I peek through the windows first to make sure she's not inside, before heading to the warehouse door.

I find it locked, which is suspicious, and when I enter the building, it's dark except for the late morning light that manages to creep in through the tiny windows on the high walls.

My nose upturns at the stench of sweat from last night. My eyes wander to the cage as I pass, spotting the bodily fluids on the white floor, before I reach the Cedar Heights rooms. All three are empty to my surprise, as are the bathrooms, but to be safe, I head toward our end.

I nearly skip the last room when I reach it since it was mine last night and to my knowledge, I was the only one who used it. But I do a double take through the doorway at the body curled up on the floor.

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