For a second, I worried someone might have broken into the apartment. Sonya’s voice filtering out of the door put away the last of my panic and I took a deep breath. Pretending I hadn’t been snooping, I shortened my steps and casually made my way down the hall. I was just crossing in front of the door when it opened the rest of the way and I froze.
“Eliza,” Sonya said happily, “you’re back! Give me just a minute to finish up here and I’ll meet you at your apartment, okay?”
I started to nod, but another voice cut me off. “I think we’re done here. No need to make Ms. Carlisle wait.”
“Officer Williams,” I said, trying to sound civil when all I really wanted to do was slap him. There was absolutely no reason for him to keep me at the station for three hours when I had absolutely nothing to say about anything. Baxter, I could understand wanting to keep an eye on him. If for no other reason, he deserved the hassle. I hoped the good officer would move on, but no such luck.
“Sonya mentioned that you witnessed Mr. Renfro’s outburst this morning.”
“Who?” I asked. “Is that the guy trying to get into Ms. Sinclair’s apartment?”
Sonya nodded. “He took my advice and called Officer Williams to set up an escort so he could get the last of his stuff from her apartment, but he never showed up.” Shrugging, Sonya seemed ready to pass it off as an inconvenience.
I didn’t know if Officer Williams really thought it was more mysterious than that or if he just wanted to annoy me, but he folded his arms across his chest and eyed me. “Did you happen to see anyone near this apartment last night or this morning? Someone who might want into the apartment?”
“No. Why?”
“Just being thorough.” He worked his jaw back and forth. “Do you believe it might be possible for someone to get into the apartment without any of the neighbors knowing?”
Glancing over at Sonya, I noticed her biting her nails, not looking at the officer. Suspicious, I turned my attention back to Officer Williams. “Did someone get into her apartment?”
“Why would you assume something like that?” he demanded.
“Because you’re being really weird about it.” I crossed my arms, too, annoyed this guy got under my skin so easily. “I have no idea if someone could get in. I suppose if they knew how to pick locks, maybe. I have no idea. If you’re trying to find out if someone was in there last night, ask Baxter.”
Officer Williams’ eyes narrowed. “Why? You think he had reason to be in her apartment?”
How had this guy become a cop? “No,” I snapped. “I’m just saying he would have heard someone moving around in there if it was last night. Can I go now? I really have nothing to say about this.”
“Imagine that,” Officer Williams said with a scowl. Apparently, he didn’t have any more stupid questions to ask. After a crisp goodbye to Sonya, he stalked back down the stairs and disappeared.
We watched him go until the front door hid him. Only then did Sonya finally relax. Grabbing my arm, she commanded my whole attention. “Someone was definitely in there, and I didn’t give anyone a key.” Biting at her bottom lip, Sonya glanced back toward the front door. “I think he thinks I let someone into the apartment, but I didn’t.”
“Don’t worry. He’s an idiot. I’m sure he’s just frustrated he can’t figure out how someone got in. It’s not like it’s all that complicated, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Sonya asked. Still flustered from dealing with that moron, she bit her bottom lip again.
Shrugging, I said, “Well, whoever killed her had a key, right? They didn’t exactly leave it behind after they killed her. Whoever killed her must still have it.”
I said it without passion, merely stating the facts. My own words hit me a few seconds later. Sonya seemed to process them at about the same time, because we grabbed for each other with perfect synchronicity. She found her voice before I did. “The killer was here again!” she squeaked. “In this building!”
“It could have just been her nephew, couldn’t it? He had a key, too, right? Maybe it was him.”
Sonya shook her head. “Ms. Sinclair refused to give him one. She was too paranoid. Even if he had somehow convinced her to give him a key, why set up an appointment with the cops if he planned to sneak in?”
Pleading for this to be the right theory, I said, “Distraction? If they knew they were meeting him here at three, they wouldn’t have any reason to be here earlier, right? Even if they needed to check something, they’d just wait until the appointment.”
Sonya nodded seeming relieved at my answer. Then her face paled and she squeezed my arm more tightly. “If it was Lucas, why didn’t he take any of his stuff?”
Disappointment mixed with fear. I thought that must have been the reason Officer Williams had known someone had been in the apartment. Lucas wanted his stuff, he might have had a key—though that seemed unlikely now—and there was evidence the room had been breached. It all should have fit. So why wasn’t it that easy?
“Maybe he was coming back for something more important,” I said, concerned about what that something might have been.
Sonya bit her lip again, so hard I thought she might puncture right through her dark red flesh. “Maybe you’re right. The mattress and couches, they were all cut open.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it freaked me out when I saw it.”
Her gaze darted back to the open door and she rushed over to lock it. I couldn’t help noticing how careful she was not to step on the patch of carpet still covered in dried blood. When she turned back, she was even more worried than before. “Lucas was adamant about getting back into the apartment for his stuff, but if he needed to get something incriminating or important, wouldn’t he know where it was? Cutting everything up like that seems unnecessary.”
It really did, but I didn’t know what else to say. Either Lucas trashed the apartment in search of something, or the killer did it for the same reason. An equally important question was “what” was wanted from the apartment, not “why” they wanted it. I had even less ideas about that. Whatever it was, the murderer thought it was worth killing over. That led me to wonder whether or not they found what they wanted or if they would be coming back.
“I need a drink,” Sonya said, reading my mind. She breathed out slowly and shook her head. “Batteries first, though. Baxter will be back in an hour.”
Happy to not think about murderers or their possible return, I asked, “Where should we start?”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” she said. “I say we start with easy spots and move to progressively harder areas to get to.”
Given that I had no clue where any smoke detectors were, aside from the one in my kitchen, I gestured for her to lead the way. “Whatever will annoy him most.”
The easiest spot to change the battery in a smoke detector in a common area turned out to be in the basement, on a wall opposite the scariest looking furnace I’d ever seen. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn it ran on coal. It looked original to the building. Calling this the easiest spot was a bit of a misnomer, because it entailed me climbing over three piles of random junk, up a few shelves on an ancient shelving unit I thought would splinter under my weight, and stretching out as far as I could to reach the plastic cover.
All my hard work and risk of life and limb paid off when the obnoxious, incessant beeping started up as soon as I slipped the rundown battery into place. I scaled the shelves and junk in reverse and landed on two feet, covered in cobwebs and dust. Dusting myself off, a thought occurred to me, more than a little late.
“Will anyone even hear this down here?”
“Oh yeah,” Sonya reassured me. “This is where the laundry facilities are. Claudia Fitzpatrick does her laundry every Tuesday night like clockwork, and she hates Baxter. The second she sets foot down here, she’ll have him on the phone demanding he drop whatever he’s doing to come fix this.”
Grinning at my accomplice, I was glad we’d be
come friends so quickly. Not only did she lessen the scary, weird vibes this place gave off in droves, her knowledge of the residents made her the perfect accessory.
“On to the next one?” I asked. Sonya nodded gleefully.
Feeling better than I had all day, we made our way back up to my apartment half an hour later for that promised drink and some takeout. We were opening a bottle of wine and discussing dinner options when the sound of Baxter yelling at someone carried through the walls. Not more than a minute later, his door slammed and Sonya and I burst into laughter.
“So, how was your day?” Sonya asked when we stopped laughing. “Anything interesting happen?”
“Nothing as interesting as your day, but I did nearly get knocked out by a bag of onions, and I may have agreed to a date this weekend.”
“May have? You aren’t sure or you told him it was a maybe?” Sonya asked, interest making her eyes bright.
That was the question I’d been asking myself since getting on the subway. “Both? I don’t know. It was a little overwhelming. He told me about a job I need to check out, so it might come to nothing anyway.”
“No, no, no,” Sonya commanded. “You don’t get to bail before I even hear about this guy. Is he hot?”
Just thinking about Sean’s dark eyes and defined body mere inches from mine made heat blossom in my core. It raced upward to pool in my cheeks and Sonya grinned. Sean was attractive, not to mention devilishly charming. His smile made promises I was sure he could keep, and that scared me.
“I don’t think he’s the kind of guy you have a lasting relationship with,” I told Sonya.
Brushing off my worry, she rolled her eyes. “Please, you sound like your sister. That girl never dated a guy more than a few times. No one was serious enough or perfect enough for her. Not every relationship has to be about happily ever after. Sometimes you just need to have a little fun.”
Fun. I wanted to laugh. When was the last time I had fun? Not since before I left home. That was the last time I dated. Last time I let a guy get as close as Sean managed to get today. Ben and I had fun, but it felt like more, like something that might last, at least for a while. We talked about going away to college together, but it never happened. I ran away from life when his ended. My friends tried to tell me it wasn’t my fault. My parents didn’t. Neither did his. Two weeks before graduation, I stood at his funeral long after everyone else had gone home.
It felt wrong to think about having fun now. Going out with Sean was probably stupid. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, but I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, either. Fun. Could I really do that? Did I deserve that sort of thing? I knew what my parents’ answer would be. What Bernadette’s would be as well, though her advice would be tempered by concern for my safety rather than blame. I didn’t know what my answer was, so I asked Sonya instead.
“If it were you, would you go out with him, knowing he was only in it for a good time?”
Pouring me a glass of wine and handing it to me, Sonya regarded me seriously. “Absolutely.”
5: Connected
Tuesdays and Thursdays were my early days. I was out of class by three o’clock, which left me with three hours to follow up on Sean’s job lead before I was required to show up for my first dinner with my eccentric landlord. I should have just gone Tuesday, but between changing the smoke detector batteries, dealing with Sean, and running into Officer Williams again, I couldn’t force myself to go.
When I put the address Sean had given me into my phone, I was surprised to find it near the campus. As unfamiliar as I was with Manhattan, I’d been afraid it would be half the city away. I walked into the diner and scanned the area. Only a few of the tables were filled. I had been hoping to avoid interrupting some kind of rush by coming right after class, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw how slow it was.
Before I could look around for someone to talk to, a waitress appeared from behind a pair of swinging doors and sized me up. “Table for one, or are you waiting on someone?” Her smile was cheery enough, but there was definitely an edge to her voice.
“Actually, I was hoping I could talk to Saul…about a job.”
The slight hostility I thought I’d heard when she greeted me moved to her eyes as they narrowed. Sugary sweet as she spoke, she said, “Sure, no problem. Let me go grab him.”
I couldn’t imagine what this girl’s problem was, but I needed a job. If I had to put up with a witchy waitress in order to pay rent, I would. Besides, I’d be in the kitchen all night anyway, right?
A tall, broad shouldered man emerged from the same doors the waitress had. His smile was much more genuine as he approached and stuck out his hand. “Eliza, right?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised he was expecting me. “Did Sean tell you I was coming?”
Saul glanced over at the waitress and chuckled. “Yes he did.” Turning his attention back to me, he asked, “You’re in culinary school with Sean, right?” I nodded and he rubbed his chin. “Any other experience? I’m willing to train someone, but it’s always nice to find a person who knows their way around a kitchen.”
“I’ve never worked in a restaurant,” I admitted, “but I’ve been working as a baker the last five years. I brought a résumé with me.” Letting my backpack fall from my shoulder, I quickly dug out the résumé and handed it to him. Saul looked it over as I held my breath.
After a minute or two, he nodded. “I’ll have to train you on some of the equipment and go over a few recipes unique to my diner, but I think you’ll pick it up quick enough. Can you start Monday?”
Blinking a few times, I stuttered over a response. “You’re hiring me? Just like that?”
Saul laughed. “Why not? You have more experience than anyone else who’s applied, and Sean said you were easy to work with.” His gaze darted over to the waitress again and it looked like he was holding back a sigh. “I like you. It’s my diner. So you’re hired.”
“Oh. Okay.” There was no way I could back out on Sean’s promise of fun now. The guy had gotten me a job almost singlehandedly. Sure, I had baking experience, but not a clue about using an industrial fryer or pumping out burgers during a rush.
“Can you start Monday, then?” Saul asked, grinning at my reaction.
“Yes. Absolutely. Thank you.”
Saul chuckled. “Thank me after the first week. I’m sure you’ll learn the ropes fast, but it’s going to be a long week. Especially with Danielle managing the floor,” he muttered.
“Does she work nights?” I asked. Being there at three in the afternoon, I assumed she was the day waitress. Knowing we would be crossing paths made me want to watch my back.
“Not anymore. She switched to days at the beginning of the semester, but my regular night waitress can’t come in until seven because of classes. Danielle’s been covering until Gwen gets here. She’s a real queen bee, but works hard and gets the job done. I put up with her moods as long as she keeps the customers happy. Try to ignore any nasty looks or comments she might throw your way,” Saul said. “She’s…”
Sighing, I filled in the blank the same way I had all week at the apartment building. “Always like that?”
Shaking his head, Saul sighed and chuckled at the same time. “Only since Sean broke up with her.”
Ah, that explained a lot. Great. Just what I needed. I had kind of agreed to one date with the guy and already had his ex-girlfriend wanting to claw my eyes out. Why hadn’t I just listened to common sense, and my sister, and told Sean to take a hike. I didn’t need distractions, and Sean had a flashing neon sign floating above his head labeling him as exactly that.
“She’ll cool off eventually,” Saul promised. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen, but I’ll see you Monday at five-thirty.”
“I’ll be here,” I said. That barely gave me half an hour after my last class, but I would do whatever it took to keep Saul happy. It had been a long time since I’d taken this much control over my life. I wasn’t about to give it up just because
things got hard.
Deciding I better make a run for it before Danielle came back, I made my exit and found my way back to the subway. It was nearly five o’clock before I made it up to my apartment. I’d spent the day prepping in my cold kitchen class and honing my knife skills with my cranky fundamentals instructor, but being in my own kitchen was relaxing rather than stressful. Bernadette didn’t have near the setup I was used to, but I wasn’t planning anything fancy. I wasn’t even planning to turn on the oven.
By the time Sonya knocked on my apartment door, I was putting the finishing touches on a candied pecan and mandarin orange salad. It was one of my favorite salad recipes, and I hoped it would help the residents not hate me. Making friends outside of Sonya seemed highly unlikely. Not gaining any other enemies was the best I could hope for around here.
“Ooh, that looks great,” Sonya said as she peeked at the salad. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I can be,” I said. Faking enthusiasm was only possible thanks to Saul hiring me. I was sure Sonya could see through it, but maybe her grandma would take my plastic smile at face value.
Holding her own dish of something that looked like it was supposed to be a seven layer dip of some kind, Sonya led the way downstairs to a door tucked away behind the main lobby. Knowing many of the residents would be attending the dinner, I expected noise as we approached. The quiet slowed my pace. Had everyone gone on Tuesday? Could we possibly be the only ones who would show up? I dreaded the thought of sitting around with Sonya’s weird grandma for an hour. Taking a deep breath as Sonya reached for the doorknob, I told myself it was only an hour.
When she pushed into the room, I followed, and stared at the crowd with a sinking feeling. I wasn’t exactly sure how many total residents there were in the building, but it had to be against some kind of fire code to have so many people crammed into one place. Mr. Piper was sitting on a chair in the corner, happier than the last time I’d seen him as he slurped at a bowl of soup. I didn’t see the mom of the marker-wielding kid I’d met the first day, but there were a few other familiar faces I’d seen in passing over the last week.
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