“Where do you live?” he asked as they walked back to his car. Did he see a vehicle at the edge of the parking lot with its lights on? A car pulled the wrong way across several spaces. As he looked in that direction, the driver started the engine and drove off.
“Luckily, not far,” Elena was saying. She gave him directions to a downscale garden apartment complex only a few miles from the S&D office. “I probably could have walked.”
“Not a great idea.” As he turned into the complex, he looked toward the side of the road. “There are no sidewalks here.”
“There are—in front of the buildings.”
“Which one is yours?” he asked as he made the turn off the main road. He hadn’t been to the location before, and he thought he’d categorize it as lower middle class. The yellow-brick buildings looked to be at least fifty years old, each with a metal balcony. Some had a couple of plastic chairs on them. Other balconies were obviously being used for excess storage. And some sported bicycles.
She glanced up, maybe judging his reaction.
“It’s not fancy.”
“It probably doesn’t matter once you get inside.”
She directed him to a building at one end of the complex. When he pulled up, she immediately reached for the door handle.
“Do you think I could come in and wash my hands?” he asked.
When she answered, “Of course,” he got the feeling that she wished he’d simply drive away.
Instead he turned into a nearby space and cut the engine.
They both got out, and she turned rapidly away, leading him toward the front entrance, where she stopped to get her mail, then took him up a flight of concrete steps to the second floor.
“A good location,” he remarked. “I mean, better than the basement for safety—and not so far to climb as to the top.”
“But I do sometimes hear people in the apartment above me walking around.” She gave him a quick smile. “And of course, it’s possible a guy on a rope could swing down from the room above and crash through the window.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but unlikely.”
After unlocking the door, she switched on the light, and they both stepped inside. She walked a few paces away as he looked around, then breathed out a small sigh as he made a professional judgment. If she was pulling in extra money because she was stealing information from S&D, it didn’t look like she was spending it on herself.
The furnishings were inexpensive, probably even secondhand. Some of them were like the furniture he’d rented for his own apartment. But there was really no comparison. He hardly noticed or cared about his surroundings. She obviously wanted to make her living space into a real home, and she’d worked hard to do it on a budget. She’d found some unusual pieces, like the carved sideboard, and added a lot of touches, like bright throws and pillows that gave the place an unexpected warmth.
But he wasn’t simply admiring the decorative effects. He was also looking for a place where he could leave the bug he’d been carrying around, thinking he’d use it if he got the opportunity. He might have put it in her office at S&D. But he hadn’t thought there was much chance she’d talk out of turn there. Her apartment was a much better bet.
Elena saw him taking the place in, and the expression on her face told him that she cared what he thought about her efforts.
“This is charming.”
“Thanks.” She raised a hand and let it fall back to her side. “I’m paying off some student loans. The decorating style is early cheap.”
“But you’ve done a good job with it. It looks like you have a flair for design.”
“Thank you,” she said in a low voice. He was fairly sure she wasn’t comfortable with him being there. And he was thinking that the sooner he left, the better, before he did something he shouldn’t. And what would that be, exactly? He managed to keep his mind from going there.
He held up his still-dirty hands. “Which way to the bathroom?”
“Down the hall.”
He looked in the direction she’d indicated, still thinking about the bug in his pocket. If he got her to fix him something to drink, he could probably plant it then.
“Do you have a rag I can use?” he asked. “I don’t want to get grease on your towels.”
She brought him a piece of terrycloth, then left him alone to soap his hands.
He looked around while he worked on the grime. It was a standard apartment bathroom, but she’d given it a lot of personality—with a rainbow-colored shower curtain and small ceramic figurines on a wicker shelf sitting on the toilet tank top.
He got most of the grease off and wrung out the towel, then draped it over the edge of the tub.
He was just fumbling in his pocket for the listening device when a loud rap at the front door made him go still.
Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was after seven. So, who was dropping in on Elena this evening? Not someone with a key.
He heard her walk to the door and hesitate a moment before opening it. She stepped rapidly back as someone barreled into the apartment.
A sharp male voice spoke. Shane could tell by the inflection that a question was being asked. But he didn’t know what the guy had said because he’d spoken in Spanish.
Chapter 7
Shane stepped out of the bathroom, still listening to the Spanish conversation and picking up only a few words here and there. He arrived in the living room to see Elena confronting a dark-haired man who looked to be in his early thirties. His narrow lips were set in a grim line, and his angry, deep-set eyes were focused on her.
When he saw Shane approaching, he turned his attention to him and switched to English that was much more accented than Elena’s.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Who are you?” Shane countered.
The guy’s hands went to his hips in an aggressive stance. “I said who are you? And I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”
Elena answered quickly. “This is Shane Gallagher. He works at S&D. My car broke down, and he gave me a ride home—after he tried to see if he could fix the car. He got his hands dirty under the hood, and he came in to wash them.” She looked from the newcomer to Shane and back again. “Shane, this is my brother, Alesandro.”
Neither of them said, “Glad to meet you,” but the brother relaxed a fraction.
“I was just leaving,” Shane said, wishing he had an excuse to stay for a few more minutes. He hadn’t accomplished his main mission in coming here, but it was instructive to observe the relationship between brother and sister. The guy seemed overprotective. Or was “protective” the right word?
Shane didn’t have much experience with cultures where the men ran roughshod over the women, but he had wondered if that was the case with Elena’s family. She’d talked about them a little, but now he had a better idea of where she was coming from, as the phrase went.
The brother stepped out of the way, and Shane exited the apartment, hearing the door close firmly behind him. He had to fight the temptation to stay where he was and press his ear to the door to find out what was going to happen in there now. But he could picture Alesandro pulling the door open again and discovering the Good Samaritan was a snooper.
With a sigh, Shane walked rapidly down the steps and out to his SUV. Too bad he didn’t carry around equipment like a directional mike. Of course, they had probably switched back to Spanish, and the effort would be wasted.
He looked up at the lighted window that he now knew was Elena’s and waited a couple of minutes. Finally, he drove away, wondering why the guy had shown up in the first place. Had he followed them from work? Or was he just making a social call on his sister? It didn’t exactly seem like it. He’d been angry or upset when he came in.