kept going. It was the middle of the night, but she was still wearing the blue warm-up suit, after all. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well exercise. She headed down the hill toward the lower side of town. Alicia’s side. She remembered Alicia’s address from the information on the job application—assuming that at least wasn’t a lie—and glanced at the street names. Alicia lived on a president street. The same names that popped up in every town across the country—Washington, Lincoln, Jackson, Jefferson. There it was. Casey found the number on the nearest house and used that to make her way toward Alicia’s place. When she reached it she stood in the middle of the dark street and studied the place.
It looked like a regular house. There was no indication that there was an apartment in the basement. Nothing to say a woman lived there alone, or, as Ricky had stated, that there was anything in the vicinity worth stealing. It was a nice enough house, in a decent location, but not a place Casey would imagine thieves would frequent—it was neither a feast of riches nor a harbor for drug dealers and gangs. Just a dark, quiet neighborhood with lower-middle-class status. The mountains loomed like black sentinels over the roofs, close enough to be seen, and almost felt. Far enough away they weren’t a direct moneymaker. The landlord wouldn’t be able to charge top dollar to a renter, because getting anywhere touristy would mean using public transportation, or taking a long walk, like Alicia used to do every night after work.
A siren sounded in the night, but it was in the distance, and moving away. A car accident, maybe, or a break-in at a house that would be more profitable than these modest dwellings. Still, Casey moved out of the middle of the street, into the shadows. Her light-colored warm-up suit glowed like a beacon under the streetlights, and the last thing she needed was some nosy neighbor calling the cops.
There was no sign in the house that the landlord was awake. No movement. No lights. And no dogs paced the lawn inside the small fence. Casey walked around the house and found what she assumed was Alicia’s door, at the base of a narrow cement staircase. The entryway was free of police tape, and through the small window in the door Casey could see that the interior was pitch black. The door was locked.
Casey ran her fingers over the top of the doorjamb, but there weren’t any keys. She moved several rocks, the small planter on the steps, and one of those ceramic frogs meant for hiding things, and looked underneath. Nothing. She wasn’t surprised—if Alicia was lying about her life and afraid of her past creeping up on her, she wasn’t going to make it easy for anyone to get in. Even if she thought she couldn’t be found, her innate sense of self-preservation would keep her from using any security shortcuts.
Casey turned to walk back up the steps.
A man stood at the top of the stairwell with a baseball bat.
Chapter Fifteen
“Who’s there?” He raised the bat to shoulder level.
Casey put up her hands. In the darkness she couldn’t see much about the man—young or old, strong or weak. But a baseball bat could do damage no matter who was wielding it, especially when she was trapped in a brick stairwell, with no room to maneuver.
“I’m unarmed,” she said. If you didn’t count her feet and hands. Or elbows.
The man held his ground. “What do you want? I called the cops.”
“I’m Ricky’s sister. Ricky Kaufmann. I came to look at Alicia’s apartment.”
The bat lowered a few inches. “You mean Ricky, Alicia’s boyfriend?”
“Yes. The guy you turned in.”
He slumped and the bat tip went all the way to the ground. He leaned on it, like it was a cane, and rubbed his forehead with his other hand. “I didn’t turn him in. The cops wanted to know if I saw anything. I had to tell them. He was here.”
“But you didn’t tell them about the other men.”
“I didn’t see any other men. If there were any.”
“You really think Ricky did this?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe he would. That’s why it took so long…I didn’t even think about his visit until hours later. He came over to see her often. She introduced him to me, and he treated her really nice. He was a…a good kid.”
“He still is. Can I