She took a step into the room. “Nope. You?”

“Nope.”

Of course, he would say that. So, what had he put in his pocket? What was he searching for? And the snapshot sounds, she knew those were from taking pictures. She could be naive at times because she wanted to see the good in people. But stupid she was not. Rather than let him know she was on to him, Deven pursed her lips to remain silent, her gaze picking over the room. Friends close and enemies closer.

Kennedy had made good on her word and converted this bedroom into a huge closet. The entire space had been glamorized with pink walls and white, floor-to-ceiling built-in shelving, cabinets, and cubbies. It looked as if there had been organization about the chaos at one point, but clothes and shoes now overflowed the space, protruding from their hangers and scattered on the floor with a careless precision. A chaise—or what looked to be a chaise underneath the mountain of jeans—sat beside the only window. The showstopper piece of furniture was definitely the marble island right in the center of the room with its jewelry drawers, inserts and even more cabinet space.

Benji was at the island now, his movements calm and calculated as he sat a lid back on a shoe box. Deven recognized the box immediately from when she helped Deven move. The gun. Was that what he was looking for? She crossed the room in three strides and, not waiting for his permission, snatched the lid back off the box.

Old pictures, papers, and a few credit cards. But no gun. Where was it? Had the police taken it? Had Benji?

Deven grabbed the box and angled it to Benji, though she was sure he could clearly see inside. “Where is it?” she demanded.

“Where is what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. The gun. You knew it was here.”

Benji just stared, not confirming nor denying the accusation. His silence was admission enough and she scoffed at the realization. “Oh wow, I see. Is that why you wanted to meet me? To bring me here because you knew I had a key, and you were trying to steal some stuff from my sister? Really, Benji?”

Benji’s face crinkled in shock, then absurdity. “Wow, is that what you think?”

“So, you’re telling me, I’m making stuff up?” Deven tossed back, pointedly. “You’re not here to take anything?” Her eyes squinted, almost daring him to lie.

To her surprise, he didn’t. He let out a breath and glanced away from her stare, his expression wary. “Look, it’s not like that.” His voice was earnest this time, but Deven kept her guard up.

She nodded to the open shoe box still in her hand. “You took her gun?”

“No.” Benji lifted his hands, palms out. “I was looking for it, but I didn’t take it. I swear. It wasn’t here.”