aware of, Andre. Have they been around?”
“Yes, here and there. Asking questions of tenants and me and my son. I’m just thankful my son was in Brooklyn that night and people saw him. You know how innocent people can get snared in these things.”
“Don’t I,” she said ruefully.
Andre had summoned the elevator. As they stepped inside, Kit’s gaze flew first thing to the red stop button on the brass panel. She wondered if the police were working with the same theory that Kelman had suggested, that someone had stopped the elevator that night, forcing Avery to use the stairs.
As they exited on the fifth floor, she couldn’t help but glance at the stairwell door. Her guilt over Avery’s murder was still raw. Part of her longed to be rid of it, but that seemed callous.
Once they reached her apartment, she saw that the customized door had been installed, and Andre handed over the new keys. She unlocked the door and after they entered, they both looked cautiously around. Nothing had been disturbed since she was last there.
“You haven’t seen anyone suspicious around, have you?” she asked Andre. “Any men who don’t look like they should be in the building?”
“No, and I’ve made a point of being here a lot. My son, too. And I check the tape from the camera each day. Nothing suspicious.”
She sighed. What he’d shared wasn’t good for much, but it smoothed the edges on her nerves just a little.
“It will probably take at least thirty minutes to pack up my stuff. Do you mind waiting around? I could use your help taking everything downstairs.”
“Of course. I have work to do on the third floor. Just call me on my mobile when you’re ready.”
A moment later she had her apartment to herself. Her response, as she wandered through the space, surprised her. She had thought her fear would color everything, ruin it for her. But it felt so sweet to be back inside, to see and touch her possessions. The air was still faintly redolent with the scent from the fig candles she burned most nights when she was home alone. Unexpectedly she felt a surge of anger. They wanted to take all this from her, she thought. But she wasn’t going to let them.
She packed quickly, jamming as much as possible into her backup suitcase, including clothes she’d need as the weather warmed up over the next couple of weeks. When it was time to retrieve items from the office, she felt herself go on higher alert. But after letting herself in, she discovered that everything appeared as she’d left it. Still moving quickly, she loaded two tote bags with files and supplies, including sketching paper, fabric samples, and extra fan decks of paint chips.
Mission completed, she called Andre. As good as it felt for her to be home, she didn’t want to linger. He returned immediately, carrying several packages, one of which was a long packing roll addressed to Baby that she realized was from Colin, the main draftsman they used. Dara had been sending messengers down to collect any packages that had arrived, but the drawings must have slipped through the cracks.
“Oh, thanks, Andre,” she said. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep holding on to packages as they arrive, and we’ll arrange to have them picked up.”
“Are you ever coming back, though?” he asked. With a super it was impossible to tell if questions sprang from genuine concern or a need for information that might impact him in the long run.
“Of course, I’ll be back,” she answered hurriedly, though she hadn’t a clue what the future held. “I’m just staying with a friend for now and working from her apartment.”
“That reminds me, a client came by the other day—on Tuesday, I think. A woman.”
It must have been one of Baby’s, Kit realized, because she couldn’t imagine which of hers it could be.
“Did she leave her name?”
“No, not a name. She was tall, with long black hair. A very attractive lady. The type with money. She said she wanted to see you.”
Sasha, she realized with a start.
“What did you tell her, Andre?”
“That you were away and she should try you by phone.”
She’d never thought to caution Andre to keep quiet.
“That’s all?”
“She wanted to know where you were,” he told her. “I told her you’d left with one of your co-workers. But that I didn’t have any idea where you were staying.”
Kit let out a ragged sigh, feeling her fear spike. The word co-worker might