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“What pecan croissant?” Josie said.
Gretchen reached the door and twisted the knob, pulling it open. “Maybe we are soul mates, after all. You should let Noah down easy though. I like that guy.”
Josie laughed softly as they passed through the doorway. She was relieved to feel cooler air once they were out of the stairwell. Lauber’s apartment was in the middle of the hallway. The interior of the building was in much better shape than the exterior and the lobby. Fresh white paint coated the walls of the hallway. Polished hardwood floors gleamed. Wall sconces hung between apartment doors. The faint smell of bacon mixed with something more florid. Perfume, maybe.
“This place isn’t so bad,” Gretchen muttered. “Maybe they’ll fix the elevators next.”
She knocked on Morris Lauber’s door. Beyond it, they heard footsteps. Then a beat of silence. Something passed over the peephole. Next came a muttered, “Shit.” The door opened slowly, just a sliver, and half of a grizzled face with brown eyes peeked out.
“If you’re looking for the guy with the feral peacock, he’s in 23.”
Gretchen held up her credentials. “We’re looking for Morris Lauber, but let’s unpack that later.”
“Shit,” he said again.
“Are you Morris Lauber?” asked Josie, also presenting her credentials.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Can we come in?” asked Gretchen.
“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t. See, my girlfriend will be home soon, and she won’t be happy to see me talking to the cops.”
“Why?” asked Josie. “Have you done something wrong?”
“No, no. I wouldn’t break the law. You can look me up. I don’t have a record. A few speeding tickets but that’s it.”
Gretchen looked at her watch. “What time does your girlfriend get home?”
He told her.
“That’s in twenty minutes. We’ll be gone in fifteen,” she promised him. “If we see her, we’ll tell her we’re looking for the guy in 23.”
This seemed to mollify him. Slowly, he opened the door. Inside was a living room that bled right into a kitchen just big enough to accommodate a table and chairs for two. The place was clean and neatly kept. The furniture was dark, dated, and scuffed in places but Josie could see the touch of Lauber’s girlfriend in the fresh flowers sitting in a glass vase on the pitted coffee table and the stack of romance novels on one of the end tables. Morris muted the television and sat down on his couch. Kayleigh Patchett’s face flashed across the screen, but Morris didn’t react, instead reaching for a half-full bottle of beer on the table. He put it to his lips and hesitated. “I guess I shouldn’t drink this with the police here.”
Josie said, “Mr. Lauber, you’re in your own home. We’ve interrupted your afternoon. Do as you like.”
This garnered a big smile. Gretchen looked at her watch again. “We’re here about Henry Thomas.”
Slowly, he put the beer down. Then he ran a hand down his stubbled face. “Oh no. Henry get himself into some trouble again?”
“We were hoping you could tell us,” said Josie. “We found your phone number in his phone. Looks like the two of you talk pretty regularly.”
“We do. I knew his dad. He and I used to trap together. I was always around, watched Henry grow up, practically. Then he got in trouble on account of that girl, and he went to prison. Broke his dad’s heart. Right before Henry got out, his dad passed. I helped him with the estate and everything. Finding a lawyer, going through his dad’s things, selling the house, helping him buy the cabin. I ain’t no dad, but I try to be there for him.”
“I’m sure his dad would appreciate all you’ve done for him,” said Josie. “How often do you see Henry?”
“We usually get together once a month. He comes here or I go to his place. Sometimes we hit the bar. Depends. Just shoot the shit. I complain about Darcy—that’s my girlfriend—and he complains about work.”
“Henry isn’t dating anyone?” asked Gretchen.
“Says he doesn’t have time for it.” Morris laughed. “But that boy doesn’t do nothing but go to work and watch Netflix, so I don’t know what he’s talking about. I think he just doesn’t want the frustration of having to answer to another person.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” asked Josie.
“Oh, about a week ago. Say, is Henry okay?”
“He’s fine,” said Josie.
