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“You’re still trespassing,” Junior insisted.
“With good intentions!” Barry said.
“What kind of good intentions?” Sylvie asked.
“I heard some noises. I thought… I dunno. I was worried. Hadn’t seen you coming and going. Thought I was being neighborly.”
“What kind of noises?” I asked, finally tucking away my gun. Because, really, even if the fuck tried to charge any of us, there was no way he could do any damage. He seemed the sort who liked his violence in video game format, not real life.
“I dunno… kinda… grunting noises?” Barry said, face scrunching up.
“Ah… grunting?” Sylvie asked, looking as confused as I felt as her gaze moved around.
Then this character she had for a neighbor started to imitate the sounds.
It was Junior who moved first, with a sort of grumbling sound that had me wanting to immediately follow, but I wanted to keep my eye on the neighbor.
“Move it,” I demanded, waving him to follow Junior, then I followed him, letting Sylvie go behind me.
“Is that…” Barry asked as we all moved into Sylvie’s room and saw what Junior was looking at.
“My panties? Yes,” Sylvie said. “I know, it must be quite a shock. Seeing your first pair of girlie underwear.”
A snorting sound escaped Junior at that, but Barry ignored the comment.
“No, I meant… that,” he said, pointing at what both Junior and I had already seen, but Sylvie had looked over. “Is it…”
“Jizz? Yeah,” Junior said, and I watched as Sylvie’s face twisted up as she put the pieces together.
“Someone was in here… jerking off on my bed and… ugh,” she said, looking a little green. “Oh, God. You don’t think that this has happened before, do you?” she asked, genuinely looking like she might be sick if she was told yes.
And either Junior was oblivious—which seemed unlikely—or he just felt like giving it to her straight.
“Probably.”
“But I’ve never had to… clean anything up,” she said.
“I think maybe your friend Barry here interrupted him before he could get rid of the evidence. Notice any panties going missing lately?” he asked.
“I mean… I don’t exactly keep stock of my underwear,” Sylvie admitted. “I have a whole drawer of it.”
“I have fifteen pairs,” Barry supplied. “Two weeks of not doing laundry worth, plus laundry day.”
“That’s just kind of sad, Barry,” Sylvie said, shaking her head at him in a very big-sister sort of way.
“No one was in here when you came in?” I asked, giving Junior a nod when he said no.
The two of us started moving through the apartment, checking closets, inside the shower, even in some of the cabinets where, if a man was trying hard enough, he could wedge himself.
Nothing.
No one.
“Did you hear anything when you got in here?”
“How did you get in here?” Sylvie asked.
I guess Junior and I had been figuring he had a key or something for emergencies. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.
“Used to get locked out of the house a lot as a kid. Latch-key kid, y’know? Always losing my keys. So, instead of telling my parents I lost another one, I just… figured out how to pick a lock.”
“Asshole,” Sylvie said, without malice, as she backhanded him across the chest.
“Hey, you could have been, I don’t know, choking to death,” he claimed. “On un-stolen takeaway,” he added, getting a small smile out of her.
“How fast are you at a lock?” Junior asked.
“I mean, I’m no Michael Weston, but… Michael Weston,” he said at our blank looks. “Burn Notice. About a spy? Forced to take random jobs while dealing with his crazy ex, a former friend who is informing on him, and his hypochondriac mother? You all need to watch it,” Barry claimed.
“So, there was probably enough time to get his cock back in his pants and rush out down the fire escape,” Junior said, pointing out the window.
“I always hated that it was outside my bedroom,” Sylvie admitted, staring at it. Likely wondering how many times this sick fuck might have watched her from it.
Her apartment faced the side of the building where there was nothing but an abandoned old auto parts store that moved to a better part of town. No one would really notice if they saw someone on the fire escape. If they did, they’d probably figure they were sneaking a cigarette or a blunt. Nothing to call the cops about.
“Do you lock it normally?” Junior asked as he wrenched it open.
“Yes.”
“Well, that explains it then,” Junior said.
“So… you have a creep?” Barry asked, looking at Sylvie.
“Seems that way,” Sylvie said, still watching the window even after Junior closed and locked it.
“Sucks,” Barry said.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Well, now I know. I can, you know, keep an ear and an eye. Go all Jason Bourne on them,” he said, holding his hands up in a karate stance even though no one in the room could be convinced the man actually knew how to do karate.
