her again about going to Europe, but she had pretended to be too busy getting dressed to answer, and he had no reason to suspect anything.
Mrs. Boslicki was going out that day too, she said she had to buy a new bed, one of the mattresses had been burned by one of her last boarders. And Mrs. Rosenstein had an appointment with her doctor. And the others all worked. She knew that if she waited till lunchtime, she could be alone in the house to go through the professor's room. She wanted to see if there were any more incriminating documents about Steve, and then she wanted to talk to the lawyer, to see what he thought she should do. But the one thing she knew was that she wanted Steve out of her life as soon as possible. She never wanted to spend another night with him, or have him touch her again. She wanted to ask Mrs. Boslicki to evict him. He hadn't paid his rent in months, and she knew that if she didn't pay it for him, he couldn't. But even that would take time, weeks at least. And she didn't know how to handle the situation in the meantime. There was no one for her to talk to.
She went back to the house at noon, and knew she had waited long enough. The house was silent when she let herself in. Everyone was gone, as she hurried up the stairs to the professor's room, and left the door wide open. There was no one there to see what she was doing. She unlocked the desk, took out the stack of letters again, and they were even more horrifying this time when she read them. She pored over every detail, the aliases, the crimes, the list of women he had used all over the country. Considering his age, he had been very busy. And she was still engrossed in reading when she suddenly heard a sound behind her. She turned and saw Steve, smiling at her from the doorway.
“Counting your money so soon, Gabbie? Or hoping to find more? Now don't be greedy, baby.” There was a strange smile on his face, and she jumped when she saw him. Her face went instantly pale, and she didn't smile at him. She just couldn't.
“I just wanted to go through some of his things. Ian gave me a long lunch break.” Steve said nothing as he sauntered slowly toward her. She wondered if he had canceled his lunch, or if that had been a lie too, or if this was all a trap, and he knew exactly what she'd been reading. Maybe he knew all along. She didn't know what to think now.
“Interesting reading, isn't it?” He pointed at the neat stack of letters, and she knew from the look in his eyes he'd seen them before. He didn't care what she knew now. He was in the money.
“I don't know what you mean,” she said, sounding vague, turning over one of the letters to conceal the others.
“Yes, you do. Did he manage to tell you before he died? Or did you just find them?” He had returned to the house to look for any copies of the letters that might still be around. The old bastard was just the kind of person who would protect himself.
“What is it you think I found?” She was playing cat and mouse with him, and they both knew it.
“My little history. The professor did some very thorough research. There's more, of course, but I think he managed to hit all the high spots.” He sounded proud of it, and he looked so sure of himself, it made her feel sick as she watched him. Who was this man? He was nothing to her. A total stranger. “We had a conversation about it the day he… uh… fell.” He said it with careful emphasis and her eyes blazed as she stood up to face him.
“You did it, didn't you? You bastard.” She had never called anyone that before, but he deserved it. “Did you hit him? Or just push him? What did you do to him, Steve?” She wanted to know now.
“Absolutely nothing. He made it easy for me. The old fool got in such a state he did most of it to himself. I just helped a little. He was very worried about you. But I can see why now. I didn't realize you were his heiress, That was a lucky