I advised. "If you can pick that lock, other people can break in."
Lily's nose wrinkled. "Good point."
We got in the car and buckled up. "Where to?" asked Lily.
"Excellent question. Don't know. I left my notes at the agency."
"We can run over there and get them."
"Or I can call Austen," I said, already dialing. Austen gave me Zach's address with barely a question as to why and I read the address to Lily.
"I know it," she said. "It's near the train station. I read in the Gazette that the area is getting gentrified. Lots of commuters live near the station so they can get to Boston easily without having to pay for parking or relying on bus schedules. A lot of people moved there because it's cheap but now they're getting forced out. All the landlords would rather rent their newly redone studios to the higher-earning professionals."
"Makes sense from a business point of view, but it sucks to be forced out of a once affordable area. Zach isn't a particularly high-earning professional. Or is he? I don't know what his job could really be classified as. Blue or white collar?"
"Beats me. That outdoorsy stuff takes skills but no college degree."
We shrugged the question aside as we headed towards the train station. The lack of parking was problematic so we ditched the car several blocks from the station and headed towards Zach's apartment on foot. He lived in a seven-story walk-up next to the tracks. We raced to catch the door from closing after a man walked out and a train rumbled past. The whole building shook and the glass pane in the door rattled. We needn't have rushed; there was no visible security. This was clearly not one of the buildings upgraded for the professional commuters.
"Wow, that was so loud!" said Lily when the train disappeared around a bend.
"How can anyone sleep with trains like that going—" I was cut off as another train shot past, heading the opposite direction, drowning my words. I tugged the door shut behind us and we moved deeper into the sparse entryway. The walls were dirty white, the flooring worn, brown carpet, and someone attempted to brighten the space with a set of art prints and an artificial ficus placed next to the mailboxes. I straightened the middle print so it matched its neighbors. Then another train shot past and it slipped askew again.
"I got his mailbox open," announced Lily.
I whipped around, raising my eyebrows as Lily held up a small bundle of mail.
"How did you... you picked the lock."
"It was easy. You wanted the mail, right?"
"I kind of hoped it would just be lying around."
"I can throw it on the floor if that helps?"
I sighed and took the mail, shuffling through it. There was a utility bill and some junk brochures. Nothing interesting. I stuck it back in the mailbox and the mailbox popped open again.
"I'll get that," said Lily, sticking a needle-sized tool into the mechanism as she held the door shut. This time, it stayed in place. Then she rubbed the door with her sleeve. "Fingerprints," she explained.
"I doubt Zach dusts his mailbox for fingerprints before comparing them to a national database."
"You can never be too careful," said Lily. "We have just committed a crime."
"Is it a crime if no one knows about it?" I wondered again. Lily shrugged. "Let's go knock on the doors of his neighbors," I suggested, heading for the stairs.
"Are you sure that's a good idea? If someone tells him a woman was asking about him and describes you, he's gonna be pissed."
"Good point," I agreed. "Austen said Sophie used to live here too so we'll ask about her instead. We can say we're trying to find her and this is her last known address. If we're lucky, someone might spill a detail or two about Zach." We headed up to the fourth floor and counted off the doors. Four apartments comprised the floor and Zach lived in apartment B. "Let's check C and D first as we work our way around to A," I said.
"Cool."
I knocked on C and a large man wearing a checkered shirt with no sleeves and a billowing pair of boxers answered the door. "Got pizza?" he asked.
"No, I..."
He slammed the door. Lily and I exchanged a puzzled glance before I knocked again.
"Pizza?" yelled a man's voice.
"I'm trying to find Sophie Gallo," I yelled back, pausing as a train passed, cutting off all possibility of hearing his response.