Page 30 of Devil
“When do I get my present?” she asked, breaking the silence. They’d been walking close to ten minutes, and she didn’t think it was much farther.
“When we get to my place,” he said, confirming her suspicion. “You’ll want the light, and the time, to look at it.”
“You found it, didn’t you?” The document that Dr. Pritchard printedhadto be the gift, and she didn’t bother to hide her anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, it would be the lead that would clue them in to what was going on.
He flashed her a smile. “Maybe.” But his expression told her everything.
“How far to your place?”
“Anxious?” He winged an eyebrow up, making her laugh.
“For the document, yes.”
“And?”
“To get out of these heels.”
He slowed and cast her a concerned look. “I shouldn’t have made you walk.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t make me do anything, and it’s not bad. I’ve been wearing heels since I was nine. Not like this, of course, but I’ve been wearing them so long it’s almost weird to walk without them. Even so, regardless of how much time I spend in them, there’s nothing quite like those first few barefoot steps when I kick them off.”
He made a face. “I’ll take your word for it, but it doesn’t sound like a great idea to do things that the best thing about them is when you stop.”
She shrugged and grinned. “They make my ass look good.”
He snorted as he tugged her around a corner. “Your ass always looks good.Youalways look good.”
There was an underlying sincerity to his comment that had her holding her tongue, and they walked the rest of the way—another half block—in silence. Letting them into the building with his key, they then rode the elevator to the third floor. The second he closed the door to his apartment, she slipped off her shoes and sighed.
“So good,” she murmured, walking into his living room. She took in Darius’s home as she made her way to a comfy-looking plush couch. The apartment ran the full depth of the building. On the street side was a large living room. At the back, a decent-sized dining room and kitchen. Off the kitchen was a hallway that, presumably, led to his bedroom. Although based on the size of the apartment, he probably had a guest bedroom and bathroom as well.
Sinking onto the couch, she adjusted her dress and Darius’s coat, then pulled a leg up underneath her. Expectantly, she held out her hand. He pulled a piece of folded paper from inside his jacket and handed it over to her.
“While you have a look at that, I’m going to change. I know you have clothes at Smith House, but I have a pair of sweats and shirt you could borrow. Although I’m not sure how they’d go with your heels.”
“I’ll figure it out later,” she said, then waved him off as she unfolded the document. It was only one sheaf, and on it was a table of three columns and ten rows. There were no headers on the columns, so she had to guess what each represented. But based on what she saw, she thought the first column reflected weight in pounds. Each cell contained the same number, 240. The second column appeared to be a dosage level. The numbers in milliliters increased from the top of the column to the bottom. And the third column, well, she wasn’t sure what it represented. It was a series of whole numbers that started at twenty-six in the top cell and decreased down to two at the last.
She stared at it as she waited for Darius to rejoin her. It didn’t take him long, and a few minutes later he walked back into the room wearing jeans and a navy sweatshirt. She might have eye-fucked him, but it was hard not to. Even with the document still in her hand.
His lips tipped into a knowing smile. “Can I get you a drink, and do you know what it is?”
“Water would be good. Or tea if you have it,” she answered. She hadn’t had much to drink at the dinner, but a warm beverage sounded more appealing than wine or beer. “And as to what this is, I think it’s a dosing chart.” She watched Darius fill a kettle, then place it on the stove. It wasn’t until he pulled two mugs from a cabinet that he spoke.
“Since you didn’t offer, I assume you don’t know what for?”
He glanced up, and she shook her head. “Could be any number of things.”
“Walk me through it?” he asked, after setting a tea bag in each of the mugs. Rather than come sit beside her, he leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil.
“I think the first column is weight, so whoever this applies to, if it is what I think it is, is two hundred and forty pounds or so.”
“The second column is the dose by milliliter?”
She nodded. “I’m not entirely sure what the third column is, but the only thing I can think of is that it’s an estimated reaction time.”
“Reaction time?” The kettle whistled, and she remained silent while he poured the water into the mugs and joined her. “Do you want cream or sugar?” he asked, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa.
She shook her head. “No, thank you. And yes, reaction time. If it’s a virus, it would be the length of time before symptoms appeared. Or if the dose is an antibiotic, the time it would take for it to start taking effect. That kind of thing. Because I don’t know what this is a dosage table for, I don’t know what the third column indicates other than potentially time.”
