Kite shut us in, instantly heading into the kitchen. “I'm disorganized, not a hoarder.”
Bending down, I carefully flipped through the newspapers on the couch. “I don't know if she's a hoarder. Looks like she was collecting things intentionally.” Holding up the top sheet, I tapped the headline. “Obsessed with Frank's murder, it seems.”
“That fits with her story.” Kite had his head in the cupboards. Meticulously, he went through each of them.
“You don't think she's lying about wanting revenge, do you?”
He left the kitchen, staring at me seriously. “No. I don't. We should sit down with her and get her to tell us everything about that massacre, though. I bet there's clues there, like what the other man looks like.”
Gingerly, I set the newspaper down. My voice was low. “Then the plan is to go forward with trying to find the killer?”
Kite pulled up short. “The plan is to find the letter.”
I squinted, hands folding behind my back. “No. You're getting excited at the idea of going through with this, aren't you? You're acting like this is a normal contract for us.”
“Fuck, I don't think any of this is normal, Jacob.” He wrinkled his nose and bent down, checking the floorboards for movable, hidden spaces.
Slumping my shoulders, I approached him as if he'd run. “I'm trying to dance around it, but... I want you to realize what you're doing.”
He rose to his feet, glaring at me, nearly nose to nose. “And what's that?”
“You're reliving the rush of the hunt.”
Kite pulled back his lips, a mocking grin. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm excited by the idea of killing again. What do you think about that?”
Fine lines ran over my forehead. Then, they smoothed away. “I think I understand.”
In front of me, Kite crumpled. His jaw fell open, then shut in a nervous smile. “You're not fucking with me, are you?”
“I don't see the harm in looking for this guy,” I said. “And... yeah. It brings back memories. But the danger here is in letting Marina try and kill this guy alone.”
He nodded, rubbing the side of his neck. “She'll probably mess it up.”
“As long as she doesn't drag us down with her, that's fine,” I said flatly. Kite's fingers twitched by his hips; I noticed how he fidgeted. “You don't like that idea, why?”
“I don't know,” he muttered. “Forget it.”
Is he actually worried about this girl? Clicking my tongue, I looked away. “Let's keep searching. If we find the letter now, we can end this whole mess before it goes any further.”
We spent the next hour in silence.
It was a fruitless hunt, revealing only that Marina apparently loved packaged instant noodles. She also owned a stunning amount of unlabeled cans.
“Well,” I sighed, tugging at the tip of one glove. “I don't know. I don't think it's here.”
Kite was pacing the room, boiling with too much energy. We were both overtired. “Where the fuck could she put it?”
“I have an idea, but you won't like it.” Fluffing my hair, I offered a weak smile. “Where do you put something to keep it safe, if not with a trusted friend or family, which our dear Marina has neither of?”
He turned to face me, so slow his bones could have been rusted together. “The bank.”
“The bank,” I agreed.
“Son of a bitch.” He covered his eyes, then tilted his head back and laughed. “Of course. So we can't get it unless she hands it to us.”
I studied my gloves. “Guess we could try and become bank robbers.” I knew my humor wasn't helping.
Kite shook his head, walking towards the door. “We'll think of something. It's almost six, let's get out of here.”
We patiently made sure everything appeared undisturbed. The final touch was locking the door. To the untrained eye, no one had entered Marina's apartment since she'd left last night.
****
She was sitting in Kite's kitchen when we returned.
Poised on a stool, the morning glow highlighted every swell of her body. It made the curls of her chocolate hair golden, and drew my eyes helplessly to the indents on her lower back.
Jeans clung to her ass, her tight blue shirt riding high.
Turning towards us, she blinked over the steaming mug in her hands. “Hey! I was wondering where everyone was.”
The casual greeting threw me off. Glancing at Kite, I fitted on a warm smile and approached her.
A strong chocolate fragrance attacked me. I was blessed with a heightened sense of smell, normally this didn't matter much. Now, as I drew closer, I caught the delicate notes of pumpkin and detergent and probably cheap shampoo. It shouldn't have smelled so good.
She shouldn't have smelled so good.
“Morning,” I said politely. “Did you not know how to work Kite's coffee maker?”
Looking confused, she stared from me to her mug. “Oh, no. I'm not much of a coffee drinker. I prefer hot chocolate.”
“It's not for everyone,” I agreed. “Though, perhaps you haven't... experimented enough?” My eyes twinkled with a subtle, sexual undertone.
Marina blinked, blush dusting over her cheeks.
That felt good.