We’re now in his apartment.

Well, the police are.

“I didn’t think you were Missing Persons, Detective Childs.”

He shrugs. “I was just finishing up on a case nearby and heard about this one. Recognized the address, so I thought I’d stop by.” His gaze drifts past me, to the open door. “Sounds like there could be some things of interest in there. If you’ll excuse me now.” He steps past me and makes his way toward the apartment door and a middle-aged white man who must have arrived from another direction. He greets him with a handshake and a “Good to see you, Detective Patterson.”

“What is going on?” I hiss.

“Exactly what I just said. Tenants called in reporting their super missing, and the police have to respond.”

“By breaking in? They can do that?”

“After checking all the local hospitals and contacting his next-of-kin without luck . . . yes. They will check a person’s place of residence and use whatever force is necessary to get in. Given the guy is the super and the owner is out of the country, this was the only way.”

“But Grady’s not here.” At least I assume he’s not. “What happens now?”

Doug takes a long, drawn-out sip from his coffee cup, but I can feel the excitement radiating from him. “Normally, if the person isn’t in the apartment, they’d just walk right back out and continue their search elsewhere. But if they were to find something suspicious or criminal sitting in plain sight, then they’d have to act on it. Probably launch an investigation into the individual, while trying to find him. Which means they’ll have to get a search warrant to inspect his personal belongings.”

It finally clicks. “The marijuana plants.” I turn around to watch the officers milling about the hall. “They’re waiting for the search warrant to go back in.”

“Should be here soon.” Doug links his arm through mine, pulling me toward the stairwell, but not before a single nod toward Childs—a silent acknowledgment that I can’t decipher but also don’t miss.

————

“I know it has been under the most unpleasant of circumstances, but I’ve really enjoyed this time with you,” Ruby offers, her spoon clanging against the china. She didn’t bat an eye at my suggestion that I drag her kitchen chairs and TV tray over to Celine’s empty apartment, so that she could join me for a cup of tea. It was a smart idea on my part. Even thirty seconds inside her apartment caused me tunnel vision.

I smile from my spot on the floor, with the wall acting as my backrest.

My attention is split between the door and my phone, waiting to hear from Doug or Childs, or both. Doug’s phone rang an hour ago, and he disappeared immediately after, insisting that I stay put and not get involved because it would be a risk to the investigation. I complied, and now I’m going to go crazy.

“Same here, Ruby. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to come to San Diego with me for the holidays?” I mentioned it to her last week, when Taryn was booking my flight home for me. I would gladly book a ticket for her, too.

“Oh, you’re too kind. I’m sure San Diego is lovely, but I think I’ll stay. Theodore has invited me over for dinner. He has a large family.”

“Wow. From dancing to tea to an invitation to Christmas dinner with family in, what . . . five days?”

“You have to move fast at my age. Never know when you’re not going to wake up one morning.”

“I have a feeling you’ll outlive all of us, Ruby.”

She chuckles. “And besides, I don’t know that any airline would let someone my age fly across the country.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So when are you leaving, again?”

“I have a one-way ticket booked for the morning of the twenty-third. The charity auction is on the twenty-second.” We’ll see when I need to book a ticket back.

“Well, won’t that be nice.” Deafening silence falls over the apartment as Ruby sips her tea, until I’m forced to my feet to pace around the old woman perched in her chair. I wonder if I could just sit in the stairwell and listen. Maybe I could catch—

“If Doug said not to go up there, then I think you should listen to him,” Ruby warns, somehow reading my mind.

“I’m going crazy. I need a distraction. Do you have a TV in your place?” I can’t believe I’m considering even stepping in there.

“Heavens no. I don’t waste time with that sort of thing. I’d rather spend my time reading. Or writing, lately.”

“You’re still writing?” I size up those small, wrinkled old hands.

“Oh, yes!” Her eyes sparkle. “In fact, I’ve gotten further in this story that I’m working on than any other one in the last twenty years. It’s a page-turner. A mystery thriller.”

She’s very obviously excited. “So tell me about it.”

“Not yet.” She grins secretly. “It’s not finished.”

I smile. “I’d like to read it when it is. In fact I’m going to buy all your books when I’m in San Diego.”

“Well, that will certainly help with my royalty checks.”

Doug’s telltale stomps sound seconds before he barges through the door.

Ruby and I both stare at him expectantly.

“They found a vase matching the description of the one stolen from Celine’s collection. It was tucked away in the hallway closet. They’re dusting for fingerprints right now.”

My mouth drops open. Wait. It’s been in Grady’s apartment the entire time? “He just left it there?”

“Looks like it. They also found an iPhone 6 with a pink sparkly case—”

“Celine had a pink sparkly case!” Ruby confirms eagerly.

Doug nods. “And a shoe box with several pairs of women’s panties, a red lipstick, and a few candid shots of Celine.”

I take a deep, shaky breath. “Candid, like walking across the street?”

Doug twists his mouth. “More like she’s lying in her bed, asleep.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper, shivers running down my spine. Grady was a bona fide fucking weirdo. And I was sleeping with him.

“I think they call those ‘trophy boxes’?” Ruby offers.