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I tucked the phone back in my pocket without replying. “Come on,” I told Becca. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Um, do I, like, need a weapon… or…?”
I stopped, turning back to face her, quirking a brow.
“Okay. Gotcha. I’ll just follow.”
My nostrils flared.
I bent to pull the blade I kept at my ankle out of its sheath and handed it to her.
“I didn’t know blades were your thing,” she said, taking it carefully at first, like it might bite her, before she got the tang properly placed and held it with confidence.
“They’re not,” I replied. “You know how to use that?”
“Stick ’em with the pointy end,” she said, a small smile on her lips.
If there was trouble up there, we were dead.
“Yeah. You do that.”
Her smile faltered, and she fell into step behind me.
“Keep that thing pointed down if you aren’t using it.”
“Oh. Right. So, um, who lives here exactly?”
We walked up the drive to the small two story house set apart from the others farther up the street. Julia rented the upstairs apartment, despite our offer to put her up somewhere far nicer. She insisted she loved the view of the dense redwoods in the backyard and didn’t need any more space.
Before I could take the first step, thebangof a screen door around the house stopped me, startling Becca into a little chirp of surprise.
My gun was out in an instant, but when the small stout woman who lived downstairs came stomping around the edge of the house in a huff, I hurriedly put it behind my back.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, seeing me and Becca on the stairs. “I thought you were Julia,” she said, her face pinching, looking irritated and disappointed all at once.
“Have you seen her recently?” I asked.
The woman gave me another look, scrutinizing more closely. She was suspicious.
I put on my smooth voice and forced a worried expression of my own. “I’m her cousin. The family’s been trying to reach her, but she hasn’t been taking anyone’s calls. We’re starting to worry.”
The woman’s gaze slid to Becca.
“We were hoping to check on her,” Becca lied smoothly. “You know, make sure she’s okay.”
This time, the woman’s flustered demeanor melted, and she nodded sadly at Becca. “I’m sorry, dear, but I haven’t seen her in weeks. She’s past due with her rent and there’s an awful stink coming from up there. I think she might’ve gone someplace and forgot to take out her trash.”
“You haven’t seen her in weeks?” I repeated. “And you didn’t think to call the police?”
The woman looked taken aback at the question. “Well, no. Julia keeps to herself. She’s gone out of town for a couple weeks before without telling me. And you know her, with that landline ringing all hours of the day and night. I don’t think she had a cell phone.”
She did.
But clearly she never thought to share the number with her landlady.
My stomach turned with unease.
“Would you happen to have a key?” Becca asked the woman, moving toward her. “Maybe we could find some clue to where she’s gone.”
