One of Those Faces (59)

Ronnie was at the door, holding it open when I got off the elevator. She frowned when she saw me. “I haven’t seen her since she left for work last Sunday,” she said. She blocked the doorway with her lithe body, leaning against the frame. It was the same maneuver I used whenever Wilder came by. “I thought maybe she was with you.”

“No, I also haven’t seen her since Sunday.”

Her frown deepened.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I just wish I’d paid more attention . . . she said she was seeing some guy, but I don’t remember his name.”

“Jeremy?”

Her eyes widened. “No, not him. She told me what happened with all that.”

Who else could it be? Erin had only met Danny the day before we last saw her. Surely, she wouldn’t even bother mentioning him the morning after. Unless he had stayed at the apartment that night with her. The stone shifted and sank deeper into my stomach. “Was it Danny?”

Ronnie rolled her eyes to one side, thinking. “No, that’s not it.”

I let go of the breath I’d been holding. “Are you sure?”

She pursed her lips. “No, I’m not. I really have no idea. You know how she is. Just nonstop talking,” she said. “I can’t possibly remember everything she says.”

“The studio is locked up. I’m not sure if she’s been in all week.”

She eyed me. “How are you not sure? Don’t you work there too?”

I sighed. “No, I quit.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. I mean, she runs that place. She probably shut it down so she could play around for a while.”

But Ronnie had said it herself. Erin was an open book. Why would she leave for a week without giving a long, exhausting explanation first? I thought about the day I’d quit. Erin had been curt and irritable. It wasn’t entirely unlike her, but it had seemed worse than usual. “Do you know if she’s been using again?” I asked.

“She’s not my problem. I don’t check her bathroom for coke or anything.”

“Yeah, I know. But I thought she was acting a little strange at work.”

“Look, I’ll tell her to call you when she gets back,” she said and closed the door.

“Okay,” I sputtered.

The dead bolt clicked into place.



The train screeched into Washington Station, and I clutched my bag to keep it from falling off my lap. I stepped onto the platform. As soon as the doors closed behind me, my phone rang. “Hey,” I answered.

“Hey,” Iann said a little less enthusiastically. “Are you already by my place? I’m going to be a little late today. I have to finish going over my dissertation with my advisor, and she’s raking me over the coals.”

His timing was perfect. I was just a block away from his apartment. I rolled my eyes. “Okay, no problem.” I climbed the stairs to the street.

“This should be over with by dinnertime, but I don’t think I’ll be able to cook. Can we go out instead tonight?”

I hurriedly pulled my jacket hood over my hair as the first raindrops hit my face. “Yeah, let me know when you’re done, and we can meet somewhere for dinner.” I couldn’t keep the edge of annoyance out of my voice.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No, really, it’s fine. Good luck.” I surveyed the street for shelter as the rain pattered more persistently.

“Thanks.”

I hung up and trotted across the street to a small coffee shop on the corner. At least I could wait and get some work done. I followed behind the other people ducking in from the rain and pulled my hood back. They had the heater running full blast, and they were grinding fresh coffee. I edged to the back of the line at the counter, watching the rain pour past the skylight behind the bar. My eyes trained on the curtain of rain to the top of the familiar skinny redbrick building a block away.

Before I could fully understand what I was doing, I had stepped out of line and back out onto the street. No thoughts passed through my mind as I walked down the block, stray droplets hitting my face and eyes. It was as if I were possessed. I couldn’t explain it then. I didn’t try to.

When I came to my senses, I was already standing in the elevator, water rolling off the hem of my coat. The loud, constant dripping on the wood floor snapped me back into the moment.

What are you doing?

The elevator opened on the ninth floor, and I froze, staring down the long hallway at Jenny’s door. My deliberate steps carried me down the hall.

My stomach churned, but my hand was steady as I reached for the doorknob. It was locked. I stepped back, surveying the doorway.

This is the line. If you cross it, it’s breaking in.

Was it? Hadn’t I already crossed the line by going in the first time? No, this was different. She had been dumb enough not to lock her door before. She was lucky I’d been the only person to wander in.

My eyes focused on the bright-red doormat with the word hello printed in cursive. She was the type to hide a key in the most obvious place, wasn’t she?

This is too far. The thought weighed down into my stomach, trying to anchor me to reality, but I was already bent over, flipping up the edge of the mat.

There it was.

A single, dirty copper key.