He stood then pulled out my chair. He kept me close, like right up against him as we left the restaurant. When we reached my door, Anton didn’t immediately release me. “Thank you for joining me for dinner.”
“Thanks for suggesting it.”
“I’m really happy that you and Damian are finally getting a chance.”
That was the understatement of the year, but to him I said, “Me too.”
“Lock your door and arm your system.”
Our conversation earlier about Mrs. Cooke and how it was possible she hadn’t just fallen freaked me out, which was why I answered with just, “Okay.”
“Sweet dreams.”
“Night.”
I closed and locked my door and set the alarm and still I pushed a chair under the knob.
It was late when the phone rang. I reached for it cursing under my breath because I had finally fallen asleep after tossing and turning for most of the night due to Anton’s dire prediction of looming trouble.
“Hello.”
No answer. It was likely a sales call, the cold dials that took a beat or two to actually patch through to a representative, but doubt wiggled in because this wasn’t the first late night call like this I’d received. And Anton had freaked me out a bit at dinner. Not to mention I had felt on several occasions someone watching me. If this was related, how did they get my cell number? What did they want? Or was it just plain old drunk dials. I rolled over, closed my eyes and tried for sleep. I was just on the cusp of it when the phone rang again. Fear had my hand shaking and like before there was no answer. I hung up then looked at the number. Private. I turned off my phone. I needed to tell Damian about the calls, it wasn’t a coincidence I was receiving them now. And that thought kept me up for the rest of the night.
In the morning I was dragging. I had planned to get an early start, but I needed more sleep. Damian needed to know about the calls though, so I called him and got his voice mail.
“Hey, it’s Thea. I just wanted to share that I got two wrong numbers last night around three and half past three in the morning. Private number. This isn’t the first time either, it happened a few weeks ago too. It seems like something you should know. Later.”
I left my phone on the counter and headed back to bed. I was ripped from sleep an hour or so later by the pounding at my door. I had been in true REM sleep so I felt a bit drunk as I stumbled to the front door. I didn’t even bother looking out the peephole when I yanked open the door while saying. “What the fuc—”
It was Damian and he looked pissed, but his expression changed as he moved his gaze slowly down my body. It was only then that I remembered I was wearing nothing but a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. Oops.
“Where’s your phone?”
“Good morning to you too.”
He actually fisted his hands and those hot eyes fixed on me. “It will be a fucking hell of a lot better than good if you don’t cover yourself up.”
It was tempting to pull my tank off in invitation, but now wasn’t the time. “My phone is in the kitchen.”
He didn’t wait for me and was already looking at my call list when I joined him, after detouring for my robe. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Just the two calls?”
“Yes. Is that a no for coffee?”
He looked up from the phone. “Yes to the coffee.”
“Have you determined what happened to Mrs. Cooke?”
“Yes. I’m taking this.” He pulled out his phone. “Take mine for the day.”
It didn’t pass my notice that he didn’t answer my question. “I don’t need it, I’m not leaving my apartment.”
“Take it anyway. You leave the apartment, you call me first.”
I wasn’t going to argue with the man. It was too early and I didn’t have caffeine coursing through my veins yet.
“What do you know about your neighbor Jerry Castile?”
“I don’t know him. He moved in about a month ago.”
“In his fifties?”
“Yeah. I never met him, but Mrs. Cooke did. She was trying to hook me up with him. Why?” I was in the middle of adding sugar to my coffee when I answered my own question. “He was the one to hurt Mrs. Cooke?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“He has a rap sheet as long as my arm. A history of moving into buildings and robbing them.”
“Oh my God. Don’t they do background checks on potential tenants?”
“They’re supposed to, but his information was pretty well hidden.”
“He was right under our noses the whole time. Do you think she walked in on him robbing her?”