“Yeah. Uh—2C, I think. Why are you asking about him?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I moved around Max and down the hall toward the staircase.
“I’ll be back,” Max said to Jeff before rushing behind me. “Should we call the cops first?” he asked, lowering his voice as we started up the stairs.
“No,” I whispered.
I had a bad feeling crawling up from my gut. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I slowed to a creep as we reached the top of the first flight of stairs and turned to continue up the next set to the second floor. Logic told me to chill out because good old what’s-his-name was super dead and there wasn’t any danger in approaching his apartment. But my instincts warned otherwise, and they’d kept me alive this long.
I held a hand out behind me, stopping Max where he was, when I heard a muffled curse from the landing. I glanced back at him and motioned him to stay, to which he obediently nodded. I took a shaky breath and finished up the last steps in time to see someone crouched in front of the last door down the hall, sticking something in the lock and trying to break it open. The tool—maybe a screwdriver or something similar—finally made a loud noise and the door popped open.
“H-Hey!” I shouted.
The guy jerked his head up.
Ben Parker.
I’ll be damned. I was right about something important being hidden here!
“Thief!” I called loudly, hoping someone in one of the other two apartments was home and would bear witness. “Don’t move!”
Not that I thought he would listen.
Ben scrambled to his feet, looking once or twice at the open door, as if contemplating whether it was worth it, but then made directly for me and the staircase. I held up my hands to stop him and pushed hard when we made contact. But Ben was surprisingly more well-built than I gave him credit for, and he easily shoved me into the wall and hurled himself down the stairs.
I didn’t stop to acknowledge the pain in my shoulder; I turned to go after Ben. Max was shouting down the stairs for him to stop before I skidded and stumbled by him. I jumped off the last few stairs and caught myself on the far wall before turning the corner and running to the front door. Jeff had come back out of his apartment, likely hearing our shouting, but was quick to move out of the way when Ben ran by and I followed right behind him.
Ben threw open the front door to the building, and I lunged after, the night a welcome relief for my eyes. We reached the sidewalk, and he took off in the direction of the subway. Even though he was obviously fit, he was bigger—and slower. I couldn’t run like Calvin did, but when push came to shove, I found one more burst of energy and propelled myself forward. I shouted and grabbed the back of Ben’s jacket, sending us both crashing to the pavement. A jolt of pain went from my tailbone all the way up, and I hissed while stars danced in front of my eyes.
“You nosey son of a fuck!” Ben grabbed the front of my coat and pulled me up. I barely had time to acknowledge the size of his fist before it met my face and I was knocked back against the sidewalk.
Ben hoisted me up again, but before I was able to take another pounding….
“Let him go!” Max shouted.
And then Ben was sprayed in cold foam from a fire extinguisher. I let myself drop back to avoid being hit, and Ben scrambled off me in a rush. He was coughing and trying to run again. I spit some blood from my mouth and got up, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I took off after him once more.
Ben looked over his shoulder and swore before dodging between some parked cars and crossing the street. A car honked and tires screeched. Ben hit the hood of the car and went flying through the air. I had gained too much momentum to stop in time and hit the side of the car as it came to a sudden halt.
Max was calling my name. The driver was shouting a string of obscenities. And from where I lay in the road, staring at the sky, it started to rain.
MAX BORROWEDJeff’s umbrella, the two of us sitting on the curb as police lights flashed around us and brightened the neighborhood.
“I think I’m done being a detective with you,” Max said thoughtfully. “That got way too real.”
“Hmm. Where did the fire extinguisher come from?”
“It was strapped to the wall in the stairwell.”
“Fast thinking.”
“Yeah.”
I held my hand out and Max shook it.
“Are we in trouble?” he asked next.
“No. Ah—not you, anyway.”
