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“She’s probably just sleeping in. Maybe shewantsto be left alone,” Coolidge said with a sneer.
“Or maybe she’s hurt and you’re hiding something,” Shondra said, going for the jugular.
Ellie cleared her throat and the man jerked his head toward her. “A convicted serial killer escaped prison last night and may be in the area,” Ellie said. “Do as Deputy Eastwood asked.”
Derrick pushed the warrants they’d picked up on the way into the man’s hands. “Warrants. The keys. Now.”
Coolidge pulled a childish face, thin lips pursing, then made a show of examining the warrants. Ellie wanted to slap him upside the ears till his head spun off.
“Now,” Derrick repeated. “If she’s in trouble, every second counts.”
Ellie schooled her reaction. They both knew that if the Southside Slasher had gotten to Sarah, she was probably already dead. And if it was Coolidge, he could have easily hidden her body somewhere on the premises.
Shondra curved her arm around Sarah’s friend and patted her back as Coolidge retrieved a ring of keys from a hook on the wall beside the door. “It’s okay, Rochelle,” Shondra told the friend.
Ellie hoped she was right.
Ellie gave Shondra a pointed look. “Stay here with Rochelle while we take a look.”
Shondra nodded understanding. If the scene inside Sarah’s apartment was bad, the last thing they wanted was for her friend to see it.
Telling herself that if the door was locked, everything might be all right, she and Derrick followed the reluctant Coolidge outside, then down the sidewalk and up the stairs to the second floor.
The air was still and hot, begging for a breeze, the parking lot practically empty as summer semester was winding down. Sarah’s apartment was an end unit which meant it shared only one wall. The lights were off next door.
“Anyone live there?” Ellie asked.
“No, new resident moving in next week,” Coolidge said.
Ellie scratched her head. An empty apartment. Was there shared access between the spaces?
As she knocked, Coolidge stood back as if he expected this to be a wild goose chase. Anxiety mounted as they waited, but no response.
Ellie pounded the door with her fist this time. “Sarah Turner, it’s the police. If you’re in there, open up!”
Another awkward tense few moments, and she shook her head at Derrick, then took the keys from Coolidge and inserted them into the lock. The key turned, the lock clicked, but the door wouldn’t budge.
“There’s a second lock, a dead bolt,” Ellie said. “Which doesn’t fit the key.”
Coolidge shrugged as if perplexed but Ellie wasn’t buying it for a second. “You’ve been inside to do repairs. You knew about the other lock and didn’t speak up?”
“I haven’t been inside in a while,” he said. “She must have just added it. That chick was paranoid as shit.”
Ellie ignored his comment and waited as Derrick moved back, preparing to kick the door in. Judging from the fact that the door frame was intact and the lock hadn’t been picked, it was obvious that there was no forced entry.
Derrick charged, using his weight, his shoulder and leg to slam the wood. One… Two… Three times before the wood splintered around the doorknob and he maneuvered his hand inside and turned the lock.
Ellie blocked Coolidge from entering. “Stay here. And don’t leave the scene.”
Cursing, he folded his arms and leaned against the stairwell rail.
She pulled her gun and Derrick did the same as they inched inside the space.
“Sarah Turner, police. Are you here?” Ellie shouted.
The sound of the air conditioner humming full force bled into the silence and the strong metallic scent of blood hovered in the air.
Derrick gestured he’d go left to what looked like the kitchen and living room. She veered right down a narrow hall. The pungent odor grew stronger. The sound of a ceiling fan spinning echoing from the back. She kept her eyes trained, checked the bathroom.
