“No.” I moved by before Max could say another word, and went to help a customer.
I WASdrained by the time I made it to my apartment building that evening. Calvin hadn’t called me, I was worried about him after his meltdown at Saul’s, and I hadn’t had any time to research the antique bricks because I was supposed to be running a business. I dragged my ass up the three flights of stairs and caught my neighbor unlocking her door across from mine.
She turned and smiled shyly. “Hi, Mr. Snow.”
I knew her name was Sally Ng, because it was on her mailbox downstairs. Likewise, she probably only knew my last name, because that was all I had put on my tag. “Good evening,” I said.
“Hey—uhm—is your boyfriend a cop?” she asked, lingering in her doorway.
I paused, keys in hand, looking at her again. “Yeah. Why?”
Sally shrugged. She was so tiny, it felt as if I were talking to a kid with the way I had to look down at her. “I saw his gun once.”
“Oh. Right. He’s a detective. Don’t worry.”
She smiled. “That’s good.”
“I hope you weren’t scared.”
“No. He’s nice.”
I nodded. That he was. “Well. Have a good night.”
Sally stepped into her apartment. “You too.” She shut the door.
Ah. Awkward small talk between people living practically on top of each other. I was pondering how old Sally was, since we had been neighbors for several years now, as I shoved open my front door.
But then I saw the body on the floor.
CHAPTER FOUR
I DIDN’Tmove.
Didn’t speak.
The only sound that seemed to penetrate the bubble around me was the quiet clatter of plates from Sally’s apartment and the clanking of the pipes as the building’s heat turned on for the evening.
The body in the middle of my living room floor seemed quite undisturbed.
I swallowed the lump lodged in my throat and took a hesitant step inside. I quietly shut the door behind me, as if the maybe-dead guy would give a shit whether I slammed it or not. My bag slid off my shoulder and hit the floor with a thud.
No movement.
Not even a twitch.
But what if he were alive? Was this a trap? Who was it?
I glanced to either side of me for a weapon. For nearly three weeks, I had had an antique fireplace kit beside the front door that I had neglected to drag to the Emporium because it was heavy. Now I really wished I hadn’t gotten Calvin to drive it in for me, because being able to whack this son of a bitch upside the skull with a poker seemed like the best idea at the moment. Instead, I grabbed a big dictionary that sat on the small table I usually tossed my keys on.
So great. If this asshole tried anything funny, I could teach him the meaning of trespassing. Quite literally.
“All right,” I said, finding my voice. “I’m coming over there, and don’t you dare move,” I ordered. “If you so much as twitch, I’ll smack you so hard, your unborn children will know the meaning of words likebardolatry.”
I gripped the dictionary tight and slowly crept forward. The room was only illuminated by city lights that bled in through the windows by the table, and the dimness allowed me to make out peculiar clothing the—I think—man was wearing. What the hell?
A petticoat?
I stopped beside the body and reluctantly nudged the boot with my own foot.
