APEX

Ch. 10: Probable Innocence

"That isn't the point." He swung his legs off the desk and leaned in towards me. No more smirk, inward or outward, as he spoke. "She's not just a random woman to you, is she?"

"I...I don't even know her name."

"Yes, you do. Would you like me to say it?"

Shit. I had practically begged Dev not to trace this back to me and here I was, being grilled about it by the person I'd been most afraid would find out. "I'm sure you'll tell me regardless of what I'd like."

"Vicki Anatoli."

Her name on his tongue made me want to vomit. Had he said it before? Had he picked her from a dating app because he'd already made a connection between Vicki and me? If so, why?

"What, no witty comeback?" He didn't look surprised. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"You aren't stupid at all, but sometimes your ego overshadows your intelligence."

And now the surprise did show up. "I disagree. My ego is as robust as it is due to my intelligence."

"Let's call it a lack of self-reflection, then."

"You're good." He waved a finger at me. "I'll give you that. You know how to turn a conversation. Even a conversation pertaining to your missing best friend."

I winced. There was no denying it now. "How'd you find out?"

"Detective Anderson told me her name. I'd never heard of her before, and contrary to your low opinion of me, it does matter that something bad might have befallen her at an Apex shifter's hands. So, after the phone call ended, I looked her up online. And this is where I have to question your intelligence, Calla, because it took me all of two minutes to locate a picture of both of you, together, on one of Vicki's friend's profiles. Some guy named Brett."

"What?" I had a strict no social media policy, outside of what Crown's publicity department pushed for promotional reasons. "I don't believe you." Or, I didn't want to believe him, but he had said Brett's name—Brett who knew my rule and had broken it. Damn it.

To prove me wrong, Rhys brought out his phone and showed me the picture. It had been taken at Vicki and Brett's apartment a month ago for Vicki's birthday dinner. In the photo, I leaned in so my face was next to my friend's, both of us smiling widely, golden paper party hats adorning our heads.

I blinked away tears.

Rhys took his phone away, his swagger evaporated. "Are you okay?"

"Not really. My best friend is missing and I'm sitting in a room with someone who may know what happened to her and he has the gall to harass me about it all. What a dick, right?"

"I said I cared. Wait—I see." He tapped on his desk again. "This explains a lot. You think I tried to date your friend and then ended up kidnapping or murdering her or both."

"I'm not thinking that. That's too many assumptions at this point. You are a prime suspect, though."

"A prime suspect, huh? And here you are, having to spend all your time with me, act like you don't despise me."

"You're wrong. I'm not that good of an actress."

"So, you still hate me, and you've decided I'm guilty...with no proof."

"I said you're a suspect. See, this is the problem, Rhys. This is why I wouldn't let Brett file a missing person's report. You could have torn my friend's throat out and no one would ever dare trace it back to you and your precious pack."

I could sense the irritation rolling off him. It took a lot to get under his skin, but I seemed to be managing it just fine. If we weren't discussing the fate of my best friend, I would feel damned proud of myself for vexing him so completely.