Page 41 of Liar Byrd
She dumped a glass of water in my lap, but I deserved it. I was being a prick, and I had it coming. If not from her, then from Vonn. And she’d looked fucking terrified of me. I don’t like scaring people who don’t deserve it.
All those things combine to make her a mystery, and I’ve always liked those.
“She's not plain.” Vonn's frown burns a hole through my back as I walk to the closed door.
Nowhe’s the one to correct me. He also has the means to shut me up when he’s tired of my bullshit.
Nash calls after me, “Where are you going?”
I give him a lazy smile and motion to the front of my soaked pants. “To deal with the mess she made of me. Won’t be long.”
“We need to talk about the cop.” A line forms between Nash’s brows.
I grab the doorknob and twist it open. “What’s there to talk about? He thinks there’s a killer under this roof, and he’s right. There is.”
Nash is speaking as I step out of his office and close the door behind me.
There’s no sign of the maid in the entryway. I could have sworn I heard her footsteps on the stairs, but it’s the middle of the day. She still has to work. She’ll be around.
I open the door again, sticking my head in. “What did you say her name was again?”
“I didn’t,” Nash says firmly. “Stay away from her. She’s the first maid who has stayed and is actually doing the work. And…” His voice trails off.
I cock my head at the unfamiliar hesitancy that creeps into his voice. Nash is the golden boy. The boy born with a platinum spoon shoved so deep in his mouth it choked him. Best schools. Best tutors. The kind that teaches spoiled kids they’re better than everyone else.
There’s only one thing he avoids talking about, and it isn’t a pretty maid afraid of her own shadow.
“And what?” I prompt when he lets the ‘and’ hang in the air between us.
He holds my gaze for a beat longer. Clearing his throat, looks away. “Just don’t, Makhi. She doesn’t need to be messed around with.”
“Doesn’t need to be messed around with?” I echo, my eyes narrowing. I know what he’s saying. I wish I didn’t, but I do.
“Drop it, Makhi,” Vonn murmurs, and I know he gets it too.
I ignore him, focusing on Nash. “You say that like someone has.”
He pretends to scan the letter he has on his desk. I know what the letter is, and it interests him as little as it does the rest of us. It’s why we’re in the office that belonged to his dad, arguing about the same shit we always argue about.
They arrive like clockwork.
Every Monday, Nance brings it into the office on the small silver tray she uses to deliver letters to him. He tears the letter open, glances at it briefly, and without fail, feeds it into the shredder under his desk.
Three months.
That’s how long it’s been happening.
The day those letters stop arriving is one we all secretly fear.
I study his bent head for a bit, and shaking my head, I walk out of the office, tuning out Vonn’s yell to leave the maid alone as I close the door behind me.
I’m not looking to hurt her, but Iamcurious, and when something catches my eye, it’s impossible to stay away.
After a quick detour to my room to swap out black denim jeans for a pair of creased navy blue ones I pick up off the floor. I’ve heard someone moving around on the first floor at night. It’s not any of us, so it must be her. I walk down the first-floor hallway, opening doors until I find one that looks lived in.
There are no clothes on the floor, but the bed looks slept in, the window is open, and I spy toiletries on the bathroom counter through the partially open door. I shouldn’t be in her room orgoing through her things, but Iamcurious, so I walk inside and take a peek in her closet.
There’s a maid’s uniform hanging, probably a spare in case the one she’s wearing gets dirty. On the shelf above the rails are a pair of blue jeans and a hoodie. Both are neatly folded.
