Chapter 13
Cold wind bit through Sabrina’s coat as she studied the convenience store’s grimy facade. One of the fluorescent letters in the Open sign flickered, mirroring her pulse.
Her heartbeat was erratic partially because she couldn’t quite believe they’d managed to track Annie Ross to this place. Hopefully. It was a lead Noah had scared up with some magic that she hadn’t pressed on too hard, unsure she wanted to know the answers.
Also, her pulse never quite settled around Noah anyway, but apparently the dodgy nature of this area geared him up to stick closer to her than normal, his shoulder brushing hers as they surveyed their target.
He hadn’t mentioned his father dating Susan once since they’d left Jacob’s office the other day.
In fact, it felt like he’d gone out of his way to avoid the subject.
It was weird to have noticed and even weirder for her to care—emotional crises weren’t her thing, and besides, sharing that kind of stuff wasn’t what they were doing here.
But Noah shared everything. Honestly, she’d call him an oversharer. His quiet felt wrong, like the atmosphere over Dark Canyon when you could see storm clouds gathering over the horizon.
“Ready to see what we can find out?” he asked, that familiar energy humming beneath his words despite the shadows in his eyes.
She nodded, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth. She’d been doing that too much lately—gravitating toward him, treating him like a shelter she hadn’t realized she’d needed.
It felt like a problem. Like she’d started depending on him. But she couldn’t seem to take a step back.
The bell jangled as they entered. An elderly clerk barely glanced up from her crossword puzzle, her smile widening as she met Noah’s gaze. He had that effect on people. Women mostly, but even a straight guy wouldn’t be able to ignore Noah’s dazzle.
“Annie Ross,” Noah said, sliding his phone across the counter to show the clerk their victim’s photo. “Did you know her?”
His voice carried that same forced lightness it had since leaving Jacob’s office, like someone trying too hard not to be swallowed by an emotional quagmire. She knew that technique. Had perfected it under her father’s exacting standards.
Should she ask him about it? It was getting harder and harder to remember that they weren’t a couple. That they were just two people hanging out and seeing how things went. Sure, they jumped in when the other needed someone to have their back, but that was a proximity thing, not a feelings thing.
She was here to solve a case, get some closure for Annie Ross, and hope it helped Noah find his way back into writing articles.
End of story.
The clerk’s weathered face creased. “Poor thing had a tough time of it. She was a sweet girl, though. Always took the worst shifts nobody else wanted.”
Of course she did. Sabrina’s chest tightened. With no social security activity, it was patently obvious Annie had been scraping by, working off the books, probably desperate for cash. What must her life have been like to resort to such measures?
That’s why it was critical to rely on no one but yourself. Eventually, everyone flaked out or disappointed you, leaving you to fend off the wolves. Better you learn how to do that early, or you ended up in Peavine Canyon dead.
“When did she leave?” Noah’s voice carried that same authoritative tone he used with Dancer. It seemed to work well on people too.
“About six months ago? Just stopped showing up.” The clerk shrugged. “Happens a lot with the younger ones. Can’t blame them—midnight shifts are rough.”
“Did she ever mention where she lived?” Sabrina asked, pen poised over her notebook. Action felt safer than dwelling on Annie’s desperate choices.
“Some apartment complex off Miller Street. Lived with friends from the system, she said. A couple of girls.” The clerk’s gaze turned quizzical. “Did something happen to her?”
Sabrina let Noah handle that one, his smooth deflection buying them a graceful exit. Outside, the wind had picked up, carrying the sharp bite of approaching snow. Perfect weather for nothing but cuddling up by a fire with Noah and a blanket.
Which was why they were tromping around in the freezing conditions, chasing leads. Otherwise, she’d get soft. This was necessary for multiple reasons.
“Miller Street.” Noah was already pulling up a map on his phone, the screen’s glow catching the planes of his face. No trace now of the vulnerability she’d glimpsed in Jacob’s office. She should be relieved. Instead, her chest ached like she’d let him down.
“The cheapest one,” Sabrina said with certainty, shoving the feeling aside. “A building with the broken security door and no cameras.”
His answering smile hit her sideways. Because it wasn’t his normal one. “Lead the way, Officer West.”
She did, because forward motion was the only defense against thinking about things she shouldn’t be. Like how to fix Noah so they could get back to having fun. And that thought made her feel worse, because what was he, a trained monkey?
The drive to Miller Street stretched under weighted silence. Noah stared out the window, clearly somewhere else entirely. She should say something. Ask about his dad, about Susan.
But what if she got it wrong? She’d never had a relationship before, never wanted one, never practiced how all this type of stuff worked.
What if she pushed when he needed space or stayed quiet when he needed to talk?
She was better with physical challenges.
Give her an impossible climbing route over relationship navigation any day.
Noah would talk if he felt like it.
The apartment complex matched her prediction exactly. Peeling paint, cracked concrete, sheets hanging in windows instead of curtains. A maintenance worker slouched against the wall, cigarette dangling, looking about as welcoming as a rattlesnake guarding its den.
Noah shifted closer to her as they approached, walking side by side. She wished he’d take her hand like he had in the parking lot of Jacob’s office, but he didn’t.
“We’re looking for this woman’s apartment,” Noah said as he showed the picture again, projecting that easy charm that seemed to work on everyone. “Her name is Annie Ross.”
Except it didn’t work on snake-den guy, whose expression didn’t change. He took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes narrowing. “Don’t know nobody by that name.”
Was this guy for real?
Sabrina stepped forward, letting her official USFS attitude fill the space between them.
“Then you won’t mind if we check the rent records.
Unless you’d prefer that we take it up with your boss.
I’m sure he’d loved to be dragged into a simple matter like this one after you refused to cooperate with a law enforcement officer. ”
The worker’s face shifted. Message received.
“Unit 3C,” he muttered. “But I ain’t got a key. Manager’s gone for the day.”
Noah glanced at her, silently communicating that she should continue.
“Call him.” Sabrina crossed her arms and gave the worker a look. “This is official business.”
“Can’t. He’s at his kid’s recital or something.” The worker took another drag. “Try tomorrow.”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Annie’s trail was already ice cold. They needed in that apartment now.
“What about maintenance access?” Noah asked, shooting the guy a half smile. “Surely you have override keys for emergencies. Burst pipes, that kind of thing?”
The worker’s hesitation told her they were onto something. She recognized Noah’s strategy now—good cop to her bad cop. They hadn’t even planned it. Just fell into sync like they’d been working together for years instead of days.
“Look,” Noah continued, “we can do this the easy way—you let us in, we’re out in twenty minutes. Or we can call it in, wait for a warrant, have a whole circus of officials crawling over this place for hours. Your choice.”
She bit back a smile. He made it sound so reasonable. Like he was doing the guy a favor instead of threatening to rain bureaucratic red tape all over his parade.
The worker muttered something unflattering but straightened up. “Fine. But you didn’t get the key from me.”
“What key?” Noah asked innocently as a ring of jangling metal appeared from the worker’s pocket.
They followed him up three flights of creaking stairs. The whole building smelled of stale cigarettes and desperation. Their footsteps echoed off concrete walls painted an institutional shade of yellow that reminded Sabrina of her elementary school cafeteria.
A door cracked open down the hall as they passed, then quickly shut.
Through the thin walls, Sabrina could hear the murmur of a TV, someone’s music, a baby crying.
Life going on behind closed doors. But there was something else—a watchfulness.
As if she could feel eyes tracking them through peepholes.
The maintenance guy caught her noticing. “Folks here like their privacy,” he said with a shrug that wasn’t quite casual. “Kind of an unwritten rule. Nobody asks questions. Nobody causes trouble.”
“Sounds peaceful,” Noah commented mildly.
The worker snorted. “Yeah. Real peaceful. That’s why the old lady in 2B sits by her window all day, calling neighbors if she spots certain cars pulling in. Why half these units got extra deadbolts that ain’t on the lease. Privacy ain’t about peace.”
Sabrina’s gut twisted. She knew what that meant. This was the kind of place you ended up when you needed to disappear. When running was safer than staying.
A woman emerged from the stairwell, caught sight of them, and immediately reversed direction. The maintenance guy didn’t even blink.
“We’re not here for them,” she said quietly. “Just Annie.”
Something in her tone must have registered, because the worker nodded slowly. “Unit 3C,” he repeated, softer this time. “Think the blonde one moved out a few weeks ago. Real quiet-like. Middle of the night.”
Sabrina’s stomach swooped. They were getting somewhere.