Cold as Ice (Lucy Kincaid #17) - Allison Brennan Page 0,97

is always at his dorm between one and three—leaves a little after three for a class.”

“That is—wow. You’ve been busy.”

“I have to keep busy, Lucy. I’m worried about Sean, and I’m worried about you. If I didn’t have something to do, I would pull my hair out.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Really. I’ve missed you, Patrick. When I lived in D.C., I saw you almost every day. I took you for granted.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. I expected to have you around all the time, and then when I moved here … I didn’t. You have Elle and are always busy.”

“You have Sean.”

“I know. And I probably didn’t give Elle a real chance at first.”

“You more than made up for it at Thanksgiving. Seriously—I know you and Elle don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, but you both tried over Thanksgiving to like each other.”

“I like her. I’ll never agree with some of her ideas, but I like her. And more? In her heart, she’s a good person. More important, she loves you. And what she did for those kids, keeping that family together, really impressed me, showed me that her compassion is for real. Maybe I don’t have enough.”

“You have enough, Lucy. We’ve all lived different lives with different experiences that have shaped us. We need people like Elle in the world—and we need people like you.”

Lucy sometimes lamented the fact that she often saw the worst in people. She didn’t used to be that way. In fact, she used to be more like Elle … and maybe that’s why she’d had a hard time warming up to her. Elle was the woman that Lucy could have been if she hadn’t been kidnapped and raped when she was eighteen.

She shook her head, dismissing the negative thoughts. She had done so well putting the past behind her, but in truth, it was always with her—for better or worse. She had incorporated the pain and anger into a productive career where catching bad guys and finding justice for victims gave her satisfaction.

Patrick drove to Mona Hill’s apartment. She lived in a classy downtown building.

“I called ahead, but not as a PI. Prospective tenant. Go with me on this, okay?”

“Of course.”

The building was large enough to have a small management office. There was only one person in the office. Patrick smiled. “I’m Patrick, I called earlier about a vacancy?”

“Yes! I have the key right here.”

“Great. This is my girlfriend, Lucy.”

“I’m Diana Gomez, nice to meet you both. Would you like to see the apartment first or tour the facilities?”

“Tour would be great.” He casually put his arm around Lucy. Yes, it was weird to pretend to be her brother’s girlfriend.

“The best thing about this building is that we’re new—opened up three years ago. The appliances, the gym, everything is state-of-the-art. But in case something isn’t working, we have full-time maintenance. They handle the common areas as well as any problems in your unit. We have one hundred and twenty units, all with their own private balcony and washer and dryer. The bottom floor units have terraces. Down here”—she opened a door that led to the common area—“we have a great room with a large screen television. We have movie parties, there’s a pool table, games, and residents can reserve the facility for private parties.”

She went on about the amenities, the pools, the gym, parking. Lucy focused on security while Patrick asked innocuous questions. She noted that there were security cameras in the lobby, but she didn’t see any in the common area or outside the elevator.

After the tour, they looked at the apartment, which was not Mona Hill’s—that might not have been cleared by police yet. The apartment was on the third floor. In the elevator, Lucy noticed the security cameras Patrick had mentioned earlier, but there were none in the hallway once she stepped out.

She asked, “I assume there are staircases? I like taking the stairs up and down.”

“Yes, for fire safety there are four sets of staircases, one next to the elevator, one on the north wing in the corner, and two in the south wing.”

Lucy made a point of opening the door to the staircase next to the elevator. No security cameras.

The two-bedroom apartment was spacious. The balcony looked out into the courtyard, which was about fifty yards across. She considered that everyone had balconies, and privacy was afforded mostly by the blinds—if it was night and lights were on, people would be able to see into

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