We started off back toward the helicopter. He didn’t answer me until he’d buckled us both in and started the engine.
“I don’t know. It could’ve been her. Or it could’ve been someone who took her memories and used them to try and lure me in.”
Sorrow poured off him in waves as we headed home. Instead of poking and prodding him, trying to cheer him up, I let him be. When we got close to the landing pad near my house, he dipped the helicopter sharply and jerked us around.
I pressed my hand against the seat. “What the fuck was that? Here I am being nice and letting you have your peace, and you pull that shit?”
His chuckle cut through the headset. “That's for making me sleep on your couch.”
The second I got out of the helicopter and finished puking, he was so going to regret that.
We landed quickly, thankfully with no more revenge tricks, and as the air went quiet, I let out a long exhale of relief.
“I’m so happy to be back on the ground, so I think I’ll wait to kill you until tomorrow.”
The captain strode across the landing pad and opened Fin’s door. I jerked at the restraints and groaned in frustration. “No, it’s cool. Help the man who already knows how to get out of this death trap.”
Fin reached over and pushed a few button and clips on my harness and the belt fell away from my shoulders. I threw myself out of the vehicle, this time staying upright.
“I bet she was a peach in the air,” the captain said, as they both came around to my side.
I didn’t even have the energy to flip him off. “Just take me home, please. I want to crawl into bed for a year and never look at another helicopter again.”
We made it down the stairs to ground level and climbed into Fin’s black SUV.
“Any chance you’ll agree to come to my house instead? I would love to sleep in my own bed.” Fin said softly.
I ducked down against the window, closed my eyes, and waved at him. “Fine, but I’m not staying there for good. And tell Holly I want French toast for breakfast.”
At some point, Fin tucked a jacket around me.
I woke bleary-eyed for a moment to tuck it under my chin. “Mr. Wonka’s erratic elevator driver?”
He said, “Go to sleep, Zoey.”
His hand pressed my hair away from my face and then the world stayed dark.
Chapter Nine
I woke up at five am from dreams that were not my own. I lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling—thankfully, a different ceiling than Fin had given me my previous stay.
In the dream, there had been a wall of windows. So many windows, like a massive greenhouse.
I hadn’t seen one here. To be fair, I hadn’t really explored Fin’s estate. Mostly I’d just seen a couple of bedrooms and the dining room. Something about the dream had felt sad, melancholy, and I sighed, realizing I wasn’t going back to sleep. I threw back the covers, climbed out of bed, and slipped into a pair of sleep shorts lying on a chair near my bed.
I kept thinking about that red ribbon, and how Fin had so carefully rolled it up and tucked it away from my sight. Before I fell asleep, I’d remembered a contact at the local police station who owed me a favor. I knew someone in the crime lab who might be able to do an analysis on the ribbon. The hard part might be getting Fin to part with it.
Seeing as no one in their right mind should be up this early, I exited my room into the hallway. It was still dark. I wandered down a couple of the corridors, some of the lights for security outside shining through the windows. I kept walking until I reached a room with two massive double doors.
I didn’t know how I knew, but Fin slept on the other side. It would be super creepy to go in, I told myself, and yet, that didn’t stop me from cracking one door open. I resolved to peek inside, sate my curiosity, and then get back out.
I scanned for any details I could catch in the darkness until my gaze slid across his bed. His long bare arm hung out over the edge which led up to his equally bare shoulder, and then my eyes clashed with Fin’s crystal cut gaze.
“Busted,” I whispered.
He sat up in the bed and motioned for me to enter. I pushed the door open and wandered in so I could take in as much detail as possible. His room appeared more modern than the rest of the house, with various shades of gray, chrome, and deep, dark wood. I stopped a couple of feet from his bed.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.