Mabel

My heartbeat pounded in my ears. Maurice had just been alive, and now he was dead. He was lying there so still that if it weren’t for the blood, I might think he was sleeping or maybe just passed out.

I kind of wanted to pass out right now.

The blood was there all right, and it was a dark red color unlike anything I’d ever seen. A wave of dizziness hit me. My knees threatened to buckle as I stepped back away from the puddle.

Don’t faint onto a dead body, for the love of all that’s good.

My head swiveled around the apartment. I was supposed to move my body…supposed to do something. My hands shook in front of me, and I had no idea what to do with them, but somehow they went to my phone. I could call my best friend. Maybe she would have some idea of what to do. I clicked on Clara’s name and let the phone ring.

“Clara…” My voice sounded so normal, and I had no idea how that was possible. You always heard about these things—how people sound when they’re in dire circumstances. Did I sound too calm? “Call the cops. Maurice is dead.”

“Damn.” Clara made a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “You finally did it. And I wanted to be the one who killed him.”

“I-I’m not joking.” I swallowed and forced myself to look back at the scene in front of me, straight from a horror movie. “He’s really dead. I brought the waters up to the penthouse…and he was here…” I jerked my head away again, turning to the window with the beautiful view. “He’s on the floor, and there’s so much blood.”

Clara gasped. “Wait, fuck. Seriously? Is this real, Mabel? Are you shitting me?”

“What do I do? I mean, he’s so dead, and I don’t know what to do, and I—”

“Okay.” Clara’s voice had lost all its humor. “Listen to me. You need to go back to the lobby and wait. I’m coming right now, and I’ll meet you there.”

I ended the call and pocketed my phone, bending down to gather the scattered water bottles at my feet. I hadn’t even realized that the case had broken open when I dropped it. Maurice would be so pissed if he saw the mess I’d made, so I needed to hurry up and…

Like touching a hot iron, I shrank back from the bottles. Maurice wouldn’t be pissed. He would never get angry at me again. Or anyone, for that matter.

I walked to the lobby like a zombie, not truly seeing or hearing anything. Everything there was exactly how I’d left it. The front desk was untouched, down to the computer screen still logged in to the museum website. Was it really just an hour ago that Maurice had caught me searching for tickets instead of working?

His smirk filled my vision. His lips had pursed in that tight-ass smile he so often gave me. It made me want to scream. “You’re wasting your time,” he’d said, leaning close to point at the screen where I’d pulled up admission to the Hockney exhibit. “Or should I say my time?”

Maurice had managed to make everything sound like a scolding, and his voice dripped with disdain. I’d tried to ignore him, but he’d just kept going. “They won’t have the range of pieces at this little museum that they showed at the Met a few years ago, so I don’t see the point.”

He knew how important art was to me, and still he blabbed on like the world’s biggest dick. I’d opened my mouth to argue, but he didn’t let me get a word in. His smirk had grown wider. “Ah, well, it won’t be the first time you’ve settled, will it, Mabel? Get back to your job and try to make sure it’s the last time I have to check on you.”

And now… It didn’t feel like he was gone. Not with bad memories like that filling this place.

I stared at the computer screen with my pulse racing until Clara walked through the door with a police officer in tow. The man in uniform made a beeline for me, staring me down, but Clara stepped between us, reaching for my arm. “Mabel isn’t going to answer any questions right now. She’s too shaken up.”

The cop tilted his head and looked between the two of us. “From what you’ve told me, there’s a dead body in this building. I’m afraid questioning can’t wait.”