Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(60)

Treece squeezed her arm. “Who’s to say I couldn’t get in trouble on my own?”

Andi pressed her lips together to hold back the tears that burned her eyes. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better,” she said once she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Enough,” Treece said, waving her good hand. “You will be happy to know I’ve been looking at tomorrow night’s segment. There’s still work that needs to be done. A couple of segues need to be smoothed out, and there’s one scene that needs to be cut—I don’t think we should use the shot of the establishments on Beale. They would not appreciate it, and anyway, prostitutes don’t hang around there because of so much security.”

She was right. “I’ll take care of that tonight.”

“I hate to leave all the work for you as late as it is, but . . .” Treece rubbed her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m good for another six hours.” Actually, the way she felt, she could go all night.

“Are you okay?”

She looked up, and their gazes collided. “Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know. You just have this . . .” She formed a ball with her hand. “Energy. How many of those pills have you taken today?”

Andi shrugged. “Not many. Did I tell you we found the stationery that Lacey wrote the letter to Jimmy on?”

“You’re kidding? So there really was a letter?”

“Yeah.” She filled her in on what had happened at Lacey’s, and then she said, “You won’t believe that house. I wish you could see it. It belongs in that magazine that’s all about minimalist design. She has five Grant Wood lithographs in a grouping on one wall and nothing else. It looks great.”

Interest flickered in Treece’s brown eyes. “Let’s do something like that with your apartment.”

“Works for me. Speaking of my apartment, I better get to work on the film.” She grabbed her bag. “You didn’t change anything, right? I can use the copy I have on my computer?”

“Yes. Want me to keep you company?”

“Let me work on it awhile first, and if it isn’t too late, I’ll call you to see what I’ve done.”

Andi crossed the hall and unlocked her door. She’d forgotten to mention the alarm. Just as well. Treece would only worry and blame it on the Lortabs. She slipped inside and scanned the room again.

Wait a minute. She didn’t remember leaving the shade up on the kitchen window. Maybe she should call Brad, or Will. She took out her phone to dial Will while checking to see if anything had been disturbed. Remote was still where she left it by the recliner. The papers on her table looked the same. And the apartment had that empty feeling, like she was the only one in it. She must have left the shade up too.

She jumped when someone knocked on her back door. Will stood on the deck, and she hurried to let him in. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry. Just wanted to tell you what the electrostatic image report said. Did you turn the alarm off?”

“Ah.” She glanced toward the panel. “You don’t hear it going off, do you?”

“You forgot to arm it, didn’t you?”

She flushed under the steady gaze of his blue eyes. “Okay! I forgot. I was actually about to call you until I figured out no one’s lurking about.” Then she pointed to the decals on the back door and the window. “If the intruder had come back, he would have seen that red sign on the door and windows. He wouldn’t have known it wasn’t armed.”

“Lucky you. Have you checked your bedroom?”

She dropped her gaze. One day maybe he wouldn’t look at her like she was a complete idiot. “Not yet,” she mumbled. “And I guess it wouldn’t make me mad if you checked.”

When he moved past her, pulling his gun, relief spread over her like a comforting quilt. She might actually get used to someone looking out for her.

Treece stuck her head in the open doorway. “I heard voices.”

“It’s just Will, checking out the apartment.”

“Did you forget to set the alarm?”

“What is this? Pick on Andi day? Why does everyone automatically think I forgot to set it?”

“Maybe because you did?”

She made a face just as Will returned to the living room, holstering his gun.

“See, I told you no one was here,” she said.

“Don’t forget again,” he said sternly.

“Yes, sir. Why did you come over? You could have called and given me the report. And how did you know I was home, anyway?”

“Brad.”

She jerked her phone out. That stupid app he put on her phone. She moved her thumb to delete it but hesitated. Her brother would just put a tracking device on her car if she did.

“I figured you forgot to arm the alarm, and I came to help you check out the apartment.”

She turned and raised her eyebrows at Treece, who held up her cell phone.

“And I wanted to take photos of your apartment. I thought as long as I can’t work, I could pick up a few things to decorate.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Andi wrinkled her nose. “Could one of you maybe send me a text in the morning and remind me to set the alarm?”