suppose you’re right,” Abilene murmured in a deep voice under his breath.
She knew he didn’t mean it, but she took it as a token victory. In response, she paused to flash a quick, satisfied smile in his direction.
That he smiled back pleased her more than she was happy about.
They wound up canvassing the apartments on the crime scene floor. All the people who had been milling around the hallway had mysteriously disappeared when they came out, going back to their lives and choosing not to communicate with the police.
It turned out that only a few people—three, to be exact—were in their apartments to answer their doorbells when Kendra and Abilene came around.
The first was a young woman with a brand-new baby. The baby looked to be less than a month old. The new mother had all but physically dragged them into her apartment when they rang her bell. It was obvious that she was desperate for adult companionship, even companionship that involved being questioned about a murder.
It was clear that while she loved her infant son, the woman was more than ready to return to work—or at least to be in the company of human beings who knew how to do more than spit up, cry, wet and sleep.
Moving like a woman who was sleepwalking, she admitted to not having heard anything out of the ordinary that day: no sudden shouts, no raised, angry voices, no loud crashing sounds.
They thanked her and left as soon as they could extricate themselves.
Two doors down, a night watchman finally opened the door after Abilene had given up ringing the doorbell and resorted to knocking—hard. Rumpled and bleary-eyed, the man appeared none too happy to be woken up. He was no more helpful than the new mother had been, shaking his head in response to the same questions.
“No, man, I didn’t hear anything. I took a sleeping pill,” he explained, then whined, “Only way I can get some sleep. It’s just not natural to have to try to sleep during the day,” he grumbled.
“Maybe you should try getting another job,” Kendra suggested tactfully.
Her words brought an instant, almost malevolent look into the man’s dark eyes. “Don’t you think I would if I could?” he snapped at her. “I was a damn aerospace engineer before all those useless companies started to bail and move out of the state. This damn night watchman job was the only thing I could find after looking for five months.” He glared at her accusingly. “Now I probably won’t be able to get back to sleep because of you.”
She was about to say something placating and apologetic to the belligerent watchman when she noticed Abilene shifting beside her. The next thing she knew, he was placing himself between her and the man in the doorway.
“Take it easy, man,” Abilene advised, his voice mild. “Might help you fall back to sleep if you calm down a little.”
By his subdued expression, it was obvious that the night watchman had become aware of the rather pronounced differences in height between him and the detective. Rather than say something sarcastic or cynical, the man nodded and backed up into the security of his apartment. The next moment, he’d shut the door.
For a second, Kendra was stunned. Turning, she was all set to tell Abilene that she didn’t need him to run interference for her or play the big, bad guardian, but then she decided to let the matter drop. Maybe Abilene, in his own clumsy, heavy-handed way, was trying to be helpful. Even, perhaps, protective.
The last thought shimmied through her, creating a shiver she managed to tamp down. Maybe she was just working too hard. But she couldn’t stop now.
Two doors away from the crime scene they found their third person to interview. Unlike the other two tenants, he was neither half-asleep, nor bleary-eyed and belligerent. Tyler Blake, a “currently” out-of-work actor according to his own description, was both friendly and more than willing to answer questions without seeming desperate for company.
And, also unlike the other two tenants they’d interviewed, Blake admitted to having heard something earlier that day.
“It sounded like two people arguing, but I just thought that someone had their TV turned up loud,” he admitted ruefully. “I didn’t pay attention and then it was quiet again. Sorry,” he apologized, flashing a contrite smile at Kendra.
“Nothing to apologize for, Mr. Blake. You couldn’t have known what was going on,” she told him. Another question occurred to her and she asked, “Were you by any chance friendly with Mr. Burnett?”
The out-of-work actor shrugged. “Just small talk at the elevator and the mailbox. You know, ‘Just another great day in Paradise,’ that kind of thing. We never talked about anything personal, anything that mattered,” he clarified.
“Did you know his girlfriend?” Abilene asked out of the blue. Up until now, he’d been rather quiet, letting her take the lead and choosing to listen rather than to question.
Tyler looked surprised at the question. “You mean to talk to, or by sight?”
“You tell us,” Abilene replied, leaving it up to the actor to fill in the blanks.
“Well, I saw them leaving his apartment a couple of times, but I never had any conversations with her, if that’s what you mean.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped his lips. “Fact is, I’m not sure if I could pick her out of a lineup if I had to.”
“Well, lucky for you that won’t come up,” Abilene told him. “Burnett’s girlfriend was found dead in his apartment this morning.”
Tyler’s eyes widened in absolute shock. Perfectly round and black like small marbles, they gave the impression that they would fall out of his head at any minute.
“He killed her?” he asked in disbelief, his voice trembling.
“Right now, that seems to be the working theory,” Abilene told the actor. “Unless you know something different.” He paused, giving the actor a moment for the information to sink in. “Any thoughts on that?” he prodded.
Tyler really looked surprised then. “Me? No. No,” he assured Abilene while trying to suppress a shiver of his own. “Just all sounds kind of creepy, that’s all. When I did see them together, they looked happy—I guess,” he tagged on with a shrug.
“You guess,” Abilene repeated slowly, watching Tyler’s eyes.
Tyler drew himself up to be a little taller, a little straighter. Abilene still towered over him. “Well, yeah. I didn’t stare at them or anything. I’ve got my own life,” he said. “And my own girlfriend,” he added with pride. “She’s my fiancée, actually,” he clarified. “And she doesn’t like me staring at other women,” he added with a grin.
“I hear you,” Abilene said with a conspiratorial laugh. “They can get really jealous on you for just being yourself. Nothing wrong with a guy just looking.”
“If you think of anything else,” Kendra said, interrupting what looked as if it had the makings of a guy fest and taking a card out of her pocket, “call this number.” She tapped the phone number beneath her name. “Ask for Detective Cavelli.”
“So, is that the name you’re going with, Good? Cavelli?” Abilene asked
