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27
The sun was barely up when Cooper knocked on Megan’s apartment door. He’d awakened at o-dark-thirty this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep, so he showered and dressed in street clothes. It only took a few minutes on Google to locate Megan’s new residence in Mars Hill.
He didn’t let the early hour keep him from knocking hard and loud on the door. It was possible she wasn’t home but unlikely; her white Camry was out front. He didn’t care if he woke Megan up. He didn’t even care if he woke every neighbor in the building.
The apartment building was located in a questionable part of town. Its dingy walls needed a fresh coat of paint, the brown carpet had seen better days, and the dim fluorescent lights cast an unflattering glow around the space.
He had yet to hear a noise from inside Megan’s apartment. He pulled out his phone and punched in her new number—he’d looked that up too. The phone rang and rang, no way of leaving a voice mail.
Frowning, he knocked a third time on the peeling brown door. A dog barked from inside the apartment behind him. And still not a peep from Megan’s.
He hadn’t driven all the way over here for nothing. He pounded again. He briefly considered shouting out his credentials, but he wasn’t on duty and this wasn’t official business.
The door behind him cracked open, chain still attached. An old lady peered through the gap. A dog yapped at her feet and its wet nose protruded through the crack in the door.
“Sorry about the noise, ma’am. I need to speak with the woman who lives here. Do you know if she’s home?”
“I don’t know.” She didn’t move from her spot. The dog continued to yap.
He continued to stare at the woman, hoping the prolonged silence would compel her to fill the void.
“She doesn’t always come home at night,” she said.
“Does she work night shift?”
“Don’t think so. Maybe she has a boyfriend or something.”
“Any idea when she might come home?”
“Nope.”
He’d gotten about all the information he would get from the nosy neighbor. He dug for a card and extended it. “I’d appreciate it if you could give me a call when she returns.”
The woman took the card, saying nothing.
He didn’t expect to hear from her. Megan was a woman living alone, and he was just some stranger knocking on her door.
“Thank you. Have a good one.” Cooper turned and left. When he exited the building he made a right and continued around the building. Megan’s apartment faced the backyard—if you could call it that. But when he got there, her drapes were pulled tight.
He still had an hour before he needed to be at work. Time for a stakeout. He headed back to his truck and moved it to the sidelot where he could keep an eye on the building’s only door without being spotted.
He hoped he could catch her this morning. If Amber had been honest about what had happened, he needed to find out so he could help squelch the rumor. His stomach turned sour at the embarrassment and humiliation that would result. It reminded him of how he’d felt when his dad was the town drunk. Cooper had managed to live that down, to become someone people respected, and now some woman he barely knew was going to send him right back to that place he hated.
Not only that, but a rumor like this could have an impact on the election. If Megan had done this out of spite, that might’ve even been her intention. She knew he needed every Riverbend vote he could get. He couldn’t even think about that right now.
He glanced at Megan’s Camry. It was possible a boyfriend had picked Megan up, and she’d spent the night with him. It was more likely she was in her apartment and had ignored his knocking the same way she’d ignored his call. Hopefully she’d make an appearance before he had to leave for work.
In the meantime he’d see if he could get information elsewhere. He knew Cheryl Davies, who owned the Beauty Barn. She cut his hair sometimes when he couldn’t get in at the barbershop. She might be more forthcoming about what had gone down yesterday.
The salon wouldn’t be open yet, but Cheryl might be there. He looked up the number and called it, keeping watch on the apartment building.
Four rings later Cheryl answered. “Beauty Barn, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Cheryl, this is Cooper Robinson. How are you?”
“Hey, Cooper. You need an appointment, honey? I’m afraid we’re pretty booked up today, but I could probably fit you in tomorrow.”
