“Can you back up a step or two?”
“Wait,” Mel said. She checked if Gary was going to send Rothschild backward into a ditch. It was clear. “Go ahead.”
“What was that about?” Rothschild asked.
“Oh, I just wanted to make sure that you had a clear path.”
“I hardly noticed you limping,” Gary told Mel.
“Thanks. I don’t even need the ankle brace. Not every day, at least.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Gary looked through the viewfinder a little longer and gestured to Rothschild.
“How about you put out your arms out to the side? Like it’s all yours.”
“It is all mine.”
As he took the photographs, Gary shifted his feet side to side anxiously, like his position would change the shots. Rothschild didn’t move. He stood totally still, the same smile frozen on his face. His mouth never twitched and he never blinked. Conrad stared silently and Mel pulled Jake a foot to the side.
“How did it happen?” she whispered. “Your face.”
“I was attacked on the beach.”
“Attacked?”
“Not so loudly.”
“Who attacked you?”
“No idea.”
“Why did they do it?”
“Same answer as before.”
“No idea?”
“None.”
Rothschild coughed and yelled to Gary.
“Do you want any serious photographs?”
“Sure, we can try that.”
Now, instead of gesturing, Rothschild crossed his arms and flattened his smile into a line. He looked more comfortable when he was stiffer. His black eyes gleamed. Jake guessed it was the picture that they’d use. It made the landscape behind him look grander. It made him look grander too.
“These are very nice,” Gary said. “Good lighting.”
“Fine.” Rothschild stayed still.
Mel reached over to Jake again and tapped his arm.
“You said you were on the beach. What beach were you on?”
He shouldn’t have said it. Now he had a choice to make: how involved would she be?
“It was one around here.”
“What?”
“I can’t say much more, right now.”
Rothschild started to squint while Gary took photos.
“I think I’m done here. The sun is getting in my eyes.”
“Just a few more.”
Conrad walked over to Gary and grabbed him at the shoulder.
“He’s very busy today.”
“Just a few more.” Conrad looked up at Rothschild. He nodded.
“Certainly.” Conrad backed away and let Gary click.
Gary took a few more shots. It wasn’t hard to make Rothschild look good, or to make Sunset Cove look beautiful. When it was over, Jake pulled Gary aside and they started dismantling all of the gear. Gary was excited after taking his photos. He always was.
“Jacob, these will look very nice. We can do some slight color correction on the serious shots and they will look great.”
“Right. Well, that was the easy part.”
“What do you mean?”
“Getting photographs is easy.” They looked down the hill. “Now we have to get information. That’s a little harder.”
CHAPTER 30
Jake was getting better at explaining his bruises. Practice made perfect. If only it made his wounds heal more quickly.
“I fell down.”
“Ech. I’ve heard that one before. My husband was a cop, you know.”
Sheryl Goldfein leaned against her doorframe. Jake had called her before to tell her that Gary would be visiting. She was ready. She had on a long black dress and her hair looked silver instead of gray. When they walked into her apartment, they saw why she’d been leaning. She could barely balance in her heels.
“I’ve just been spending a quiet day around the house. Would either of you like hors d’oeuvres?”
She hobbled into the kitchen and Jake grinned at Gary.
“Just a quiet Sunday. Apparently she makes hors d’oeuvres on a quiet Sunday.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“You don’t want me to repeat it.”
Jake got up and hurried to the door.
“Where are you going? You can’t leave!”
“You’re solo. I have to investigate our other lead.”
“Jacob, please!”
Sheryl emerged from the kitchen with a tray in her hands. A thick coat of dark plum lipstick seemed to seal her lips together. Jake took the tray from her and set it on the coffee table. She limped to the chair next to Gary and removed her heels with a sigh. Jake rushed out before Gary could stop him.
Sheryl’s building was a short walk from Building B. He shifted Charlotte’s key in his hand and felt its sharp edges scrape against his knuckles. If no one had been inside Charlotte’s apartment, then no one would be able to tell the difference if he searched it. He’d uncover what Charlotte had found, and hopefully he’d continue what she’d been investigating. He was wearing shoes that clicked on the sidewalk, and his steps were as steady as a ticking clock.
People were outside this early in the day. A man with large shades stared at the ground as he walked. Beside him, a man wearing shorts and high socks carried a bundled newspaper. Two women sat on a wide bench, one of them reading and the other with her head down, but no book in her hands. He hurried through the active pathways, knowing he couldn’t be seen entering Charlotte’s apartment. He almost wished it were night. Now he couldn’t hide behind a shadow.
He got to the building and used the key on the outer door. A quick scan around. No one was there. It was better to commit and hurry than look around too much. He went in and shut the door behind him. He continued down the hallway, past where he and Mel had kissed. It seemed like years since it had happened. He traced his hand along the wallpaper as he walked. He was almost at Room 112.
He got to the door and faced it. Be aggressive. Do it quick. He’d get in, look for what Charlotte had found, and then get out. No one would ever know. He pressed the key hard against his palm and prepared to draw it from his pocket.
“Mr. Russo. Have you lost your way?”
He turned and saw red hair and broad shoulders. Conrad. The building door was open. Light flooded in, backlighting the man as he spoke. He stepped forward. He took each step slowly, and he held his arms out like he was confused.
“I thought you were done photographing Simeon.”
“I was. I am, I mean.” He pressed the key so hard it cut into his palm. “I just wanted to find out a little more about an average hall.”
He waited. Conrad bit his lip and looked down at his knuckles.
“I’m sure that Melissa would offer to show you around the residences.”
Conrad spoke like he was holding his breath. He didn’t exhale.
“Right. I thought Mel might be busy.”
“Do you know her well?”
“Not really.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
He looked at the wallpaper. Now it seemed like it was peeling.
“Is there anything else that I can show you, Mr. Russo?”
“I’m fine.” He let the key fall deep into his pocket.
“Then let me escort you out.”
The man held his arms out and directed Jake toward the hallway door. He had no choice but to go. He walked outside and heard Conrad following behind him, blocking him so he couldn’t get back in. Conrad’s next question came from behind and floated over Jake’s head.
“How did you even enter the hallway? Our outer doors are all locked.”
“This one was open.”
“I doubt that Mr. Russo.”
“Someone propped it open. Forgetful minds, I guess.”
They entered into the light and Conrad shut the door behind him. He pressed forward on the handle and shook the door slightly.
“The locking mechanism seems to work.”
“Someone had propped it open.”
“I see.”