Chapter 31
It’s easy enough to locate Hannah’s place. She lives in a quiet condo complex with secure parking. But there’s no real security. So I park down the block, and instead of stopping by the front office, simply make my way up to the third floor.
I go to knock on the door but I see it slightly cracked open. Not by much—it looks like the door was pulled shut but didn’t click into place.
The back of my neck is tingling as I nudge the door open with my boot. Then I glance over my shoulder, scan the parking lot below through the bank of windows.
This condo complex was built with the exterior hallways enclosed, but instead of walled in, it’s all windows. The glass enclosure lets in a lot of natural light and some people even have plants out in the common hallways.
Looking at the lot below, nothing seems out of order, but if someone is watching this place from one of the cars on the street, I doubt I’d notice them.
“Hannah?” I call out as I step inside, keeping my winter gloves on. “It’s Sloane. Your door is open.” I immediately notice that the coat I saw her wearing earlier is hanging by the front door, along with her scarf and purse.
“Hannah?” I call out again, pausing in the kitchen where there’s a mess. A teapot is on the tile, water spilling out. Two canisters are on the ground and the refrigerator door is slightly ajar.
That warning tingle intensifies. I don’t touch anything inside as I pull my cell phone out. I debate calling Alex or Garcia, and surprise myself by calling Garcia. He doesn’t answer though as I slowly make my way toward what’s a bedroom. Nothing seems disturbed there.
Or in the bathroom either, though it’s beyond messy and I can’t tell if it was her or someone else. It mostly looks like the state of Fiona’s bathroom so maybe Hannah is just messy too.
As I head back down the hallway I see something I didn’t notice on the way in. There’s a dent in the plaster right outside the kitchen, which could be nothing. But this place is just…off. Something definitely happened here.
It’s possible that someone surprised her while she was making tea. Maybe there was a struggle as they subdued her. If someone was trying to carry her out of here, then it could explain the dent.
Of course, the dent could be explained away by about a hundred different things. But I don’t like this scene.
I pull out my phone and start to take pictures of the kitchen then I hear the front door opening. A few heavy footfalls sound and my instinct kicks in.
That doesn’t sound like a petite woman walking.
I take a step toward the connected living room, trying to figure out a place to hide in case this isn’t Hannah (though I’m sure she’s going to be pissed to see me in her place if it is her), and my step creaks on the wood flooring.
I wince and pause, ducking behind the wall as I hear another couple steps.
There’s nowhere for me to hide, not really. I pull out my pepper spray and remove the safety cap as I hear someone enter the kitchen.
Using the reflections from a set of six framed black-and-white prints on the wall in the hallway, I see someone moving in the kitchen—definitely a man. I can only see the back of his head. Dark hair, puffer jacket, but without looking around the wall enclosure, I can’t see anything more.
I stay very still as he shuts the fridge.
In the distance a police siren wails and he almost jumps. Just as quickly, he hurries out of the kitchen, his footfalls thudding as he leaves, the door slamming behind him.
Heart pounding in my ears, I wait a beat before following him. I race out the front door and see the dark-haired guy running toward the set of stairs to the left. He must hear me because he turns and his eyes lock with mine.
I’ve never seen him before.
His dark eyes narrow and for a moment he looks as if he’ll come at me, but then a police cruiser pulls into the parking lot, lights flashing.
He gives me a warning look before he disappears down the stairwell. I wasn’t able to take a picture of him, but I won’t forget his face.
I don’t glance down at the cop car, but instead head in the opposite direction of the unknown man as I call Alex. I’m not sure if someone spotted me or even that man entering Hannah’s place, but I’m not going to stick around and find out.
When Alex doesn’t answer either, I end up texting Garcia. He needs to know what I found. If Hannah was taken—and it looks like she was—he’s got the resources to look into it. I have resources of my own, and I can’t help but wonder if this is tied into Cara’s murder.
My sister was murdered and now her former nanny is…maybe kidnapped?
Something is going on, but I haven’t put the pieces together yet.
I will though. I won’t stop until I’ve figured everything out.