Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,13

landlady’s apartment.

She failed to answer his knock. No light showed beneath the door; she must be out for the evening.

Blast. He’d hoped to gain entrance to the apartment himself, assuming it hadn’t been let out yet. He glanced up the stairs, then shrugged. Time for the direct approach.

Kelly had lived in apartment 4A, on the second floor. A knock on this door brought the sound of footsteps almost immediately.

Sebastian’s heart fell; he shouldn’t have expected it to still be empty months after Kelly vacated so abruptly. The door swung open, revealing a short man dressed like a clerk, a look of irritation stamped on his features. “What do you want?”

Sebastian pressed his lips together at the man’s rude greeting, but kept his own voice calm. “Pardon me for disturbing you. I’m Sebastian Rath; my friend Kelly O’Neil rented this apartment before you. I wanted to know—”

“The landlady has his mail,” the man interrupted. “I don’t want it.”

“His mail?”

“Yes, his mail. Bills, mostly. I guess he didn’t want to let any creditors know where he was going.” The man’s lip lifted in a sneer. “So if you’re here to collect, you’re out of luck, because I’m not paying another man’s debts.”

He started to shut the door, but Sebastian grabbed it before it swung closed. “I was just wondering if you found anything in the apartment when you moved in.”

The new tenant’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Like what?”

“I…I don’t know. Personal effects. A diary. A button torn from a coat during a struggle. Bloodstains—”

“Bloodstains!” the man exclaimed. “The landlady said he just moved! Was he murdered? I’m not living with a ghost—”

“No, no,” Sebastian said hastily. “At least, I don’t think so. I’m just trying to find him.”

“Well, I don’t know where he is.” With that, the door shut firmly, though Sebastian thought he heard the man muttering about ghosts as he threw the lock.

Sebastian’s shoulders slumped. Well, that had been spectacularly unhelpful. Maybe he ought to hire a private detective, since he clearly wasn’t one himself. How much did their services cost?

“You looking for Mr. O’Neil, then?” asked a voice. The door to 4B had swung open at some point while he questioned the new tenant, and a red-faced woman with a baby in her arms leaned out.

“Yes.” Sebastian turned to her. “I’m Sebastian Rath.”

“Mrs. Pickman. Come inside to talk—I’ve got something on the stove.”

The apartment was crowded with children, toys, scattered clothing, newspapers, and furniture. Mrs. Pickman navigated her way through with the ease of long practice, pausing only long enough to put the baby in a cradle just outside the tiny kitchen. Though all the windows were open to allow the May breeze to enter, the heat and steam from the stove turned the air close and damp.

“Do you know where Mr. O’Neil went?” Sebastian asked as he followed her to the kitchen. “He was a friend of mine, and I’m trying to find him.”

She picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the pot on the stove. The scents of beef and cabbage wafted from the pot, and Sebastian’s stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“That I don’t know,” she said as she stirred.

Sebastian’s heart sank. “Oh.”

“But there was something odd about the way he moved out.”

He took an involuntary step forward. “What happened?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I wouldn’t call Mr. O’Neil a friend, exactly, but he was a good neighbor to us. Over for dinner every now and then, and he’d watch the little ones if I needed to pop out for a moment. So when I heard a lot of thumping coming from his apartment one night, I went to see what was going on.”

Mrs. Pickman stopped stirring and turned to him. “I was still expecting little Betsy, there,” she said, nodding to the baby in its crib. “Close to my time, and she loved to kick, so I didn’t sleep much the last few weeks with her. That’s the only reason I heard the noise. I thought it was strange, so I waddled out into the hall, meaning to knock on Mr. O’Neil’s door and make sure everything was all right. Instead I find the door propped open and two men taking everything out in boxes. I demanded to know what they were about, and one of them said Mr. O’Neil had moved and they were collecting his things.”

Sebastian frowned. “In the middle of the night?”

“That’s what I said.” She pointed the wooden spoon at him. “It was gone three in the morning