Laina Turner - Presley Thurman 09 - Romance & Revenge Read Free Page B

because, to be honest, my cooking wasn’t actually cooking; it was more like warming up or ordering take out. His culinary skills were one of the many reasons it was great to have him as a roommate.
    “This is wonderful, Jared ,” Katy said after taking a bite of her steak. I can’t seem to ever get steak to come out right. It’s always tough. Even when I grill it outside.”
    “The secret is to cook it in a c ast iron skillet on the stove in olive oil. Seals in flavor but doesn’t dry it out.”
    “I n ever would have thought of that,” she said.
    We finished lunch in short order and left the dishes for later, so we could head to Becky’s.

Chapter 2
     
    We hailed a cab because it was easier than getting downtown by car. At least for me. I hated driving in downtown traffic and really only kept my car for my trips home. Though I had thought many times I should just sell it and rent when I drove home. But it was six months from being paid off and the garage fee was practically free. So it could just sit there.
    Jared gave the cabbie the address and for the first few minutes of the drive we were silent. I don’t know about them, but my mind couldn’t help but wander to Cooper.
    “What’s your plan?” Jared asked, jolting me out of my Cooper thoughts, which was probably a good thing.
    “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I thought just seeing the place might give us an idea of what happened or a clue. It can’t hurt to at least take a look.”
    Since it wasn’t quite late enough to be the evening rush hour, we made it across town in decent time. The cab driver pulled up in front of a nondescript-looking apartment building. We got out, paid him, and he left. We all stood for a minute looking at the building.
    “How are we going to get past the door man?” Katy asked and we stared at the guy behind the desk just inside and left of the glass entrance doors.
    “Often at places like this, just like in our building, the doorman doesn’t screen every visitor. They are there to be somewhat of a deterrent to homeless people and the general riffraff from coming in. Not to question the seemingly normal people.  The problem is, if he does ask who we are here to see, we can’t very well say Becky.  And it is surprising there isn’t at least one cop still here. Though maybe they’re on Becky’s floor, not here on the main floor.”
    “I might have a solution. I met one of Becky’s neighbors one time when we all went for drinks after work. She met us. Her name was Tammy or Teresa.  Something that started with a T,” he said, and closed his eyes as if to think for a minute.
    “Tressa. That’s it. Tressa something, I have no idea of her last name. I’m not even sure it was given.”
    “Well a first name is something. Let’s give it a try.”
    We walked up to the front door and I admit I was a little nervous. I might be nosy, but I was a rule follower and felt a little guilty if we ended up having to lie. In light of the recent murder, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were hyper-vigilant to people coming in.
    I shouldn’t have wasted my time worrying because we walked in and right to the elevators and the doorman barely looked up from his magazine.
    “Well, we know one thing already. They don’t have a great doorman,” whispered Katy.
    He was like Charles that was for sure. The elevator door shut and Jared pushed the button for the ninth floor, which was the floor Becky’s apartment was on, according to Jared’s information.
    When the elevator doors opened we all peered tentatively outside the doors and down the hall to the right. I could see crime scene tape, but I didn’t see an officer, which was a positive. I knew from experience the best way to act like you have a right to be somewhere you shouldn’t be is to do just that. Pretend you belong. I walked down toward the end of the hall confidently with Jared and Katy close on my heels. The hallway was completely empty and when we got to her