Lance had carefully calcted the window of time. Cameron left every morning at 7:30 and didn''t return until 7 in the evening. That one HECH stretch of time to get in and out
The only thing he could realistically retrieve was a strand of Cameron''s hair.
Ideally, one with the follicle still attached - it was the most reliable way to run a DNA test. If he got fucky, maybe one of the hairs shed around the apartment would still have it.
There weren''t many options left. This was the only way.
After considerable effort, he finally had someone crack the security code to Cameron''s front door. Once inside, he moved quickly and quietly, gloved hands searching for anything usable. He found it-four strands of hair buried at the bottom of the trash bin near the vanity.
Wearing gloves, he picked them up carefully, sealed them in a small transparent evidence bag, and slipped it into his pocket.
He was just about to leave when the elevator doors slid open.
And there stood Cameron.
Her apartment door was wide open. Lance was standing right by the shoe cab.
Cameron stopped in her tracks.
Her expression darkened immediately.
Her period hade early today, and the low, dragging ache in her abdomen had been gnawing at her all afternoon.
It had been bad enough to make her leave work early. Thest thing she expected was toe home to find a man-Lance-standing in her doorway like some luxury-brand burr.
Lance looked equally stunned.
He hadn''t expected her toe home early. Not at all.
Cameron stepped up to the door, her voice t. "Go on. Make up an/excuse."
Lance said nothing.
"You''re here for my hair, right?" she asked. "Did you get what you came for?" ''Sharp,'' Lance thought. ''Very sharp.''
But then again, the Yates family was full of sharp people.
Should he admit it?
Would she demand the hair back?
If he''d known she''de back this early, he would''ve tossed the bag off the balcony and retrieved itter.
Toote now.
Cameron didn''t press. Her cramps were too ufortable to waste energy arguing. "Come in," she said, walking past him to change shoes before heading straight to the en-suite bathroom./
Lance stood frozen in the doorway, debating whether he should make a run for it.
Eventually, he slipped the bag with Cameron''s hair behind a stairwell just outside her door, then stepped back inside, and det dwenen
It was several minutes before Cameron reemerged.
Her face was pale, and her movements slightly stiff. Lance assumed it was because she was furious about the break in.
He didn''t know it was physical difort.
Trying to stay ahead of whatever explosion wasing, he met her eyes and said, "I dide for your hair. But your ce is way too clean I couldn''t find anything."
Cameron gave a slight nod. "So the hair in the trash by the vanity just... vanished?"
"You have a camera in the bedroom?" Lance asked.
"You just admitted it, didn''t you?"
Lance didn''t respond. ''Is he baiting me? That little punk. Unbelievable. He''s slick as hell.
Cameron slumped onto the couch, pulled a suit throw pillow into her arms, and hugged it to her stomach. "You really want the patemity test
that badly?"
Lance said, “I literally broke into your house for it. What d
Cameron didn''t answer right away.
you think?"
After a pause, she reached up, plucked a few strands of her own hair from her head,id them on a tissue, wrapped it up, and handed it to him.
Lance stared. "What''s this?"
"It has follicles," she said. "Should give you a more urate result."
He took it quickly. "What made you change your mind?"
Her face was still pale. Her voice was low. "I''m just tired of the hassle."
Lance frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Cameron said, "you failed this time, but next time you''ll try something else. I''m too exhausted to keep dodging you."
He thought back to what the therapist had told him. Then he looked at her-her
pale face, the guarded way she held herself, the emotional distance in her tone. And something in his chest twisted.
AD
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