Immediately, we smelled the blood. A gagging sound came from Maggie’s throat. She put her hand over her mouth and stepped into the room.
I followed her inside, unable to look at the right side of the room. Instead, I just raised my arm and pointed at the couch. “There.”
But as I said the word, my body turned against my will, needing to see. Then I turned more fully, my eyes opening wide, blinking, because…because…
There was no one there.
“He was…” I said. “He was right…”
A moment passed-a moment that seemed so long, contained the power of so much sensory information. That smell, a soft ticking of a clock on the desk, the low rumble of something-subways?-somewhere in the city, the sound of my breath coursing, jagged, in and out of my lungs, the sight of the red couch still pushed aside, of the pool of red liquid next to it.
“Are you sure?” Maggie asked.
“Look.” I pointed to the blood. “Obviously, something happened. He was lying right there.”
Maggie shook her head. “But where is he now?”
I paced the room, my eyes wildly scanning the place, my brain scanning every memory I had, every sight I’d seen, looking for something that made sense.
“There are drag marks over here. Elena must have had the body removed. After we saw him, when we got upstairs, she took off running.”
“Where would she take the body?”
“I have no idea.”
“We have to figure out where she could be.”
I was about to make the same response-I have no idea-but then I stopped. “I think I know.” I grabbed Maggie’s hand. “Let’s go.”