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“We could do it today. I could go with you.”
“I have work, Tristan. Besides, I have a few people on it already.”
“You could have done your research at the shop.”
“I can’t come over every night. People are already asking questions.”
“So? Let them ask.”
“When you get ambushed by your parents at breakfast about your sex life, then come talk to me about letting people ask questions.”
The group entered the apartment building as soon as someone emerged from the locked door. The building was average and well maintained, with enough well-off workborns inside for light bulbs to survive night after night.
“According to official records, Finn Nottingham is single and lives alone,” she whispered as they climbed upstairs. “The database isn’t always current, though. We have to be careful.”
Tristan and Dixon loitered in the stairwell while Lila strode to Mr. Nottingham’s door. She knocked absently and slipped a lock-picking tool from the hem of her shirt with her other hand.
Lila wasn’t prepared for the door to open. A blond man answered, a giant whose head and wide shoulders grazed the doorframe. He wore a thin t-shirt and a pair of jeans, almost like Max in attire, but certainly not body.
He looked at her expectantly and wiped his hands on a dishtowel. “Can I help you?”
Inside, a little girl screamed.
Chapter 12
Lila dodged the man and rushed inside, searching for the child. She launched herself through a brightly lit kitchen, pots and pans still on the burners, and a dining room half set for breakfast. She found the girl in the den, her screams turning into laughter as an older girl chased her. Cartoons played on the screen in the front of the room.
“Freeze,” the man called out behind Lila.
The two girls stopped instantly, leaking a few giggles unable to be bitten back. The smaller child might have been around five years old, stout and dark-haired and dressed in blackcoat costume. A plastic Colt flopped in a cloth holster around her middle. The older blonde wore a simple dress, with an oversized white robe atop it, the ends swirling around her legs. Neither looked like the girls Mr. Nottingham had been accused of kidnapping.
Lila held her breath, unsure what to do, and dropped her drawn Colt to her thigh.
The man walked to the middle of the den and crouched before the girls. “What did I say about running in the apartment? Especially this morning?”
The two girls looked at one another then scrambled to the couch, heavy-footed, with tiny toes slapping against the hardwood floor. They looked at him innocently, their feet disappearing underneath their laps.
The man sighed wearily and rubbed his eyes. “Your friends can come inside, madam.”
“My friends?”
“The ones outside,” he said, his words thick with a La Verde accent. “I’m going to stand up now, if it’s okay with you. My knees aren’t what they used to be. I’d appreciate it if you put that gun away. The girls are too young for it, and I have a heart condition.”
He stood up slowly and extended his hand. “I’m Jake.”
Lila put her Colt back in her holster. The apartment door closed with a little snick, and Tristan and Dixon watched from the kitchen, arms crossed over their chests.
Lila shook Jake’s hand.
“I’m sorry about all the noise. We’re moving into a house next month.”
“I’m not a neighbor.”
“I know. I’ve just gotten so used to apologizing that I guess it’s become a habit. The whole building will throw a party as soon as we’re gone. I never knew little girls could be so loud.”
“Can I go to the party?” the younger girl asked.
