by the door. Magazines and junk mail were piled high on a telephone table by the door. “Did Dex leave any personal items here?” she asked as she handed over the key. “He has something that belongs to me.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Dex isn’t completely stupid. He packed up and got out just before I returned home. Did you check his apartment?”
She stared at him. “His apartment?”
“You don’t get it, do you,” he said, his face growing redder. “Dex Westfall is a lying sleazeball. You aren’t the first woman to show up looking for him. Or the last, I’m sure.”
No, she hadn’t got it. She realized how little she knew about the man she’d dated. The man she was now accused of murdering. “Where is his apartment?” Her voice came out a trembly whisper.
He reached over to snatch a scrap of paper and a pen from the phone table and scribbled something on it. “If you loaned him money, forget it. I’m sure it’s long gone. Just like I would imagine he is. This is the address he gave me.”
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