Clean Exit

The hallway smelled like dust and old wood, the kind of scent that clung to buildings that had outlived the people who passed through them. Jessica ran a gloved hand along the faded wallpaper as she walked, feeling the texture beneath her fingertips. The brownstone was old, pre-war, solid brick, the kind of place that had been divided and subdivided a dozen times over. It wasn’t the kind of building where people simply vanished. But Edward Cross had.

She paused outside the door marked 2C, glancing at Olivia and Leanna.

“Give me a minute,” Leanna murmured, pulling a lockpick from her coat pocket.

Jessica listened as the tumblers shifted under Leanna’s practiced touch. The building was quiet. Too quiet. No sound from the neighboring apartments, no creak of floorboards or muffled voices. A staged kind of silence.

The lock gave with a soft snick.

Leanna pushed the door open, and the three of them stepped inside.

It was empty, but not in the way abandoned places were supposed to be. The furniture was still here. There was a sleek, modern couch, a simple desk, and a bookshelf, but the details were gone. No clothes draped over a chair. No shoes by the door. No half-finished glass of water on the nightstand.

Jessica stepped deeper inside, scanning the space.

“It’s been wiped,” Olivia murmured, running a hand along the bookshelf, trailing fingers over the bare surfaces.

Leanna moved to the kitchen, opening cabinets. Empty. The fridge held only a few forgotten condiments, untouched. No one had packed this place up in a hurry. It had been scrubbed.

Jessica reached the desk, running her fingers over the smooth surface. Too clean. If someone had taken him, they hadn’t left behind so much as a fingerprint. No laptop. No files. No notes.

She pulled open a drawer. Empty. Another. Nothing.

Then, on the last try, her fingers brushed against something wedged at the very back. She reached in, extracting a single crumpled receipt.

Leanna stepped closer. “What is it?”

Jessica smoothed the paper out on the desk. The ink was slightly faded, but the details were clear. A bar tab. The Mayflower Hotel, dated three weeks ago, the night Cross disappeared.

A small, tight smile pulled at the corner of Jessica’s lips. Even careful men make mistakes.

They left the apartment quietly, moving down the hall with the ease of people who didn’t want to be seen. The street outside was empty except for the steady hum of streetlights casting long shadows against the sidewalk.

Jessica barely acknowledged Olivia and Leanna as they made their way down the steps. Something wasn’t right.

That feeling, the weight of being watched, settled over her like a cold breath against the back of her neck. She exhaled, flexing her fingers. It wasn’t paranoia, but instinct.

“Don’t turn around,” Olivia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jessica didn’t. Neither did Leanna.

“How many?” Leanna asked.

Jessica’s gaze flicked to the reflection in a nearby window. A dark sedan sat idling across the street, its headlights off. A man stood at the corner, just far enough into the shadows to remain inconspicuous. His collar was high, face obscured, but his posture screamed training. She caught a glint of a wire in his ear, or maybe a trigger mic. Dominion wasn’t just watching. They were recording.

“At least two,” Jessica murmured.

Leanna’s jaw tightened. “Are they waiting for us to make a move?”

Jessica exhaled slowly. “No. They want to see where we go.”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, her mind already working through the possibilities. If Dominion had eyes on them, it meant they weren’t just fishing anymore. They had gotten too close.

A choice presented itself. Lose the tail. Confront them. Or let them see what they wanted.

Jessica took a breath, slow and measured. Then she turned toward Olivia, her voice calm.

“Let’s go have a drink.”

Olivia didn’t hesitate. She nodded, stepping toward the curb, raising a hand for a cab. Jessica followed, sliding into the backseat, making sure the sedan across the street saw exactly where they were going.

”The Mayflower,” Jessica instructed.

They wanted to watch? Fine. Let them.

By the time they realized what Jessica was really after, it would already be too late.