“Prefect?” I say.
“… I left you alone for twenty-four hours,” he finally says. “Twenty-four hours, Augusta.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I say, exasperated.
I can hear distantclick-clacks of a mechanical keyboard. “Oh, Augusta. Only you. I’m alerting our Portland office. Where are you?”
“I’m in one of the apartments of the Waterfront Jewel.”
I can almost hear Prefect’s frown. “Are you safe?”
“For now.”
“Is this line secure?”
“I think so. It’s a landline. All cell signals are beingblocked.” There is a muffled whisper of noise, as if Prefect is moving around.
“All right,” he says. “I’ll call you back on this number. Stay where you are. Don’t make any impulsive mistakes, Augusta. That’s an order.”
“Got it,” I say. “My mistakes will be well thought out.”
He sighs and then the line disconnects.
“Listen,” I say, looking to Nonna. “Does your apartment have a virtual assistant? Is it hooked up to the building’s mainframe?”
Nonna’s mouth purses in disapproval. “They tried to make me upgrade a few years ago, but I turned them down.”
“Good,” I say fervently. “Can I try your front door?”
Nonna walks me through her living room and down a short hallway to her front door. There’s an old-fashioned chain latch, a dead bolt, and a doorknob. It’s perfect. The mainframe can’t touch it.
I glance at Nonna for permission before I reach out and unlock the chain, then the dead bolt, and, finally, the knob itself.
The door opens with a slight squeak.
I have a way out.
I hastily shut and relock it. “They’re still out there,” I say.
I take a breath, because Nonna taught me manners. Or, at least she tried. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your friend, I mean.”
Nonna looks away, her jaw clenching. I recognize thatlook. I was five when my grandpa died. While I remember the tears of my other relatives, Nonna’s face was etched in granite—cold and distant. It was only later that I found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a handkerchief between her fingers. It had been Grandpa’s. Always tucked into his front pocket.
Her grief has always been private.
I wonder if that’s how she grieved for me.
“Matthew was a nice man,” Nonna says now. “He held a monthly poker night down in the lobby, told anyone they were welcome. He has grandkids.” She seems to draw herself together. “Will the person you called be able to help?”
“Yes,” I say. “He’ll get the right people here. I’m not sure local cops are ready to handle that nasty-looking crew downstairs.”
Piper sucks in a breath. She has come into the hallway without my noticing. “There’s more? I only saw m—saw the one.” It sounds as though she was going to say “murderer” but choked on the word.
“There’s a few,” I hedge. I don’t want to scare the girl even more.
Nonna looks at me. “You said your name is Augusta, right?”
I lean against the wall. “Yeah. Never caught yours, though.”
