CHAPTER 2
THREE WAYS TO DIE
Mara stared at the door as if it had personally betrayed her.
Adrian stood beside it, one hand still resting near the lock.
Lena was the first to speak.
"That was dramatic."
Mara turned.
"What was?"
"The way you said it."
Adrian looked at Lena.
"I wasn't trying to be dramatic."
"That's somehow worse," Lena said.
Mara pressed her lips together.
A laugh threatened to escape.
She refused to let it.
Adrian looked between them.
"Can we sit down?"
"No."
His eyebrows moved slightly.
Mara noticed.
"Actually, yes."
She walked toward the kitchen table and pulled out a chair.
Lena followed.
Adrian remained standing.
Of course he did.
Mara gestured at the empty chair.
"Are you allergic to furniture?"
"No."
"Then sit."
He sat.
His posture remained straight, his attention moving around the room rather than settling on either woman.
Mara found it irritating.
She also found herself wondering what he saw.
She had spent years noticing other people's tells.
Adrian seemed to notice everything except the things she wanted him to notice.
He opened a slim black notebook.
"Let's start with your routine."
Mara folded her arms.
"My routine?"
"Yes."
"I wake up. I work. I come home."
"That's not a routine."
"It's a summary."
"It isn't enough."
She leaned back.
"What exactly do you need?"
"What time do you leave?"
"Usually seven thirty."
"Usually?"
"Between seven and eight."
"Which entrance?"
"The main entrance."
"Do you walk?"
"Sometimes."
"Coffee?"
Mara narrowed her eyes.
"What about it?"
"Where?"
"There's a place downstairs."
"Every morning?"
"Not every morning."
Adrian looked at her.
She sighed.
"Most mornings."
"What time?"
"Seven forty-five."
He wrote something down.
Mara leaned forward.
"You know, if you're planning to protect me, maybe you could explain why you're interrogating me like I'm a suspect."
"I'm not interrogating you."
"It feels like an interrogation."
"An interrogation would involve questions you could avoid answering."
She stared at him.
Lena covered a smile with her hand.
Mara pointed at her.
"Don't."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You are."
Adrian's mouth twitched.
Barely.
Mara caught it.
"You almost smiled."
"No."
"You did."
"I didn't."
Lena leaned back.
"This is going to be entertaining."
Adrian looked at her.
"How long are you staying?"
"Until she stops pretending she isn't scared."
Mara gave her a look.
Lena shrugged.
Adrian returned his attention to the notebook.
"Let's talk about the building."
Mara sat straighter.
"What about it?"
"How many entrances?"
"Two."
"Three."
She frowned.
"What?"
"The garage."
"Oh."
"How often do you use it?"
"Rarely."
"Who has access?"
"The residents."
"Security?"
"Camera at the entrance."
"Inside?"
"I don't know."
Adrian wrote something down.
Mara watched his pen.
"You've already decided this building isn't secure."
"I've decided I don't know enough about it."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No."
He closed the notebook.
"That's an important distinction."
Something about the answer caught her attention.
Not because it was profound.
Because he sounded like a man who disliked assumptions as much as she did.
Mara looked at him differently.
Only for a second.
Then she caught herself.
"So what's the problem?"
"The problem is that whoever accessed your files may know where you live."
"They don't."
"You don't know that."
"I don't have my address publicly listed."
"That's not what I asked."
She rubbed her thumb against the side of her coffee mug.
"Naomi knew."
"Who else?"
"Lena."
Adrian nodded.
"Your producer?"
"Yes."
"Colleagues?"
"Possibly."
"Family?"
"My mother."
"Anyone you've interviewed?"
"Some."
He looked toward the windows.
"How much information about your daily life is available online?"
"I don't know."
"That's the first thing we're going to find out."
Mara's phone vibrated.
She looked down.
Another unanswered message from Naomi sat above the notification.
Mara opened the conversation.
Nothing new.
She locked the screen.
Adrian noticed.
"Naomi?"
Mara looked up.
"Yes."
"Still not answering?"
"No."
"Last contact?"
"Last night."
"What did she say?"
Mara hesitated.
Lena glanced at her.
Mara turned the phone around and slid it across the table.
Adrian read the message.
His face changed.
Not dramatically.
That would have been easier.
Instead, something inside his expression went still.
He handed the phone back.
"Don't contact her again."
Mara's fingers tightened around the phone.
"Excuse me?"
"Until I know what's happening."
"No."
"Mara."
"You don't get to tell me who I can call."
"You're right."
The immediate agreement caught her off guard.
Adrian leaned forward.
"But I can tell you what I believe is unsafe."
"And you believe calling Naomi is unsafe."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she told you to stop investigating."
"She may be scared."
"Exactly."
"That doesn't mean she's dangerous."
"I didn't say she was."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying we don't know whether that message was written by Naomi."
Silence.
Mara's fingers stopped moving.
Lena's face lost its humor.
Adrian continued.
"Until we establish that she sent it herself, assume nothing."
Mara looked at the message again.
Six words.
You need to stop looking into this.
She had been so focused on what it said that she had not considered who might have typed it.
"Can you tell?"
"Sometimes."
"How?"
"Language patterns. Timing. Device information. Context."
Mara stared at him.
"You're serious."
"Always."
"That must be exhausting."
"It is."
The answer was so matter-of-fact that Mara almost smiled.
She didn't.
Instead, she opened the message details.
Adrian watched.
"No."
She looked up.
"What?"
"Don't click anything else."
"Why?"
"Because if someone has compromised the account, you could alert them."
Mara lowered the phone.
He had said it without raising his voice.
Without grabbing it from her.
Without treating her like she was stupid.
That distinction mattered.
She hated that it mattered.
Adrian stood.
"Show me your bedroom."
Mara blinked.
"Why?"
"Windows."
"My bedroom?"
"Yes."
Lena looked at Mara.
Mara looked at Adrian.
"You really don't believe in easing people into things."
"No."
He walked down the hallway.
Mara followed.
She stopped outside the bedroom.
Adrian entered.
His eyes moved immediately to the window.
The curtains were open.
He approached the glass.
The neighboring building stood across the narrow street, its windows stacked in rows.
Some were dark.
Some glowed with televisions.
Some held silhouettes.
Mara joined him.
"I don't see anything."
Adrian pointed.
"Third floor."
She squinted.
"What?"
"The building opposite us."
"I know."
"The camera."
Mara looked again.
There was a small dark object mounted near the corner of the neighboring building.
Her stomach dipped.
"That's a camera?"
"Yes."
"Could it be security?"
"Could be."
"Can it see inside?"
"At night, with your curtains open?"
He looked at her.
"Yes."
Mara pulled the curtains shut.
"Okay."
Adrian did not say anything.
Mara turned.
"What?"
"You don't have to sound so pleased with yourself."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm relieved you closed them."
"That's worse."
He almost smiled again.
This time she was certain.
It changed his face.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Mara caught herself looking at him.
He noticed.
Their eyes met.
For a second, the room felt too quiet.
Then Adrian stepped away.
"The bathroom window."
Mara blinked.
"What about it?"
"Show me."
She led him down the hall.
The bathroom was small, tiled in white, with a frosted window above the bathtub.
Adrian examined the latch.
"Does this open?"
"Yes."
"Do you leave it open?"
"Sometimes."
"Stop."
Mara stared.
"You're very good at giving orders."
"You're very good at ignoring them."
"I'm beginning to see why people pay you."
"I don't get paid to be liked."
"That must be convenient."
"It is."
She folded her arms.
He checked the latch again.
Then the hallway.
Then the front door.
Then the rear entrance.
Mara followed him.
"Where are we going?"
"Back entrance."
"Why?"
"Because you said you sometimes use it."
"I do."
He stopped.
"How often?"
"Maybe twice a week."
"Alone?"
"Usually."
Adrian looked at her.
Mara knew that look now.
"No."
He waited.
She sighed.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's faster."
"It isn't safer."
"I know."
"You didn't before."
"I do now."
Something changed in his expression.
Not satisfaction.
Something quieter.
Approval, maybe.
Mara disliked how much she wanted it.
They reached the rear entrance.
Adrian examined the door.
The lock was old.
The metal around the frame was scratched.
He crouched and looked at the hinge.
Mara leaned against the wall.
"You're seriously checking the hinges?"
"Yes."
"Do you ever look at a door and think, nice door?"
"No."
"That's sad."
He stood.
"Someone could force this."
Mara's humor faded.
"How easily?"
"Too easily."
He tested the handle.
The door moved slightly.
Mara stared.
"I thought it was locked."
"It is."
"Then why did it move?"
"Because the frame isn't sitting correctly."
He looked at her.
"Has this ever been repaired?"
"Not that I know of."
He took out his phone and photographed the hinge.
Mara watched him.
The longer he worked, the more uncomfortable she became.
Not because he was wrong.
Because she was beginning to realize how little she had noticed.
She had lived here for three years.
She had trusted a door because it looked closed.
That had been enough.
Until now.
Adrian walked toward the main entrance.
"There's something else."
Mara followed.
"What?"
"Your keys."
She looked toward the kitchen.
"What about them?"
"You leave them visible."
"They're inside."
"If someone enters your apartment, they know where you leave them."
"So?"
"If they take them, they have a way to identify your car, building access, and routine."
Mara looked at her keys.
They sat exactly where he had seen them.
Beside the fruit bowl.
She picked them up.
"What am I supposed to do with them?"
"Keep them with you."
"I do."
"You put them down when you get home."
"Everyone does."
"Not everyone is being watched."
She looked at him.
That sentence landed harder than it should have.
Adrian seemed to realize it.
His voice softened.
"I'm not trying to frighten you."
"You have an interesting way of avoiding that."
He nodded toward the living room.
"Come with me."
Mara followed.
Adrian stopped beside the window.
The morning light had strengthened.
Chicago was waking.
A bus rolled down the street.
Someone dragged a trash bin toward the curb.
A cyclist cut between cars.
Normal life.
Mara looked outside.
"I've lived here for three years."
"I know."
"And now you're telling me my apartment isn't safe."
"I'm telling you your apartment has vulnerabilities."
"That's basically the same thing."
"No."
He turned toward her.
"An unsafe place cannot be made safe."
Mara waited.
"A vulnerable place can."
She did not know why that distinction mattered.
Maybe because he was not telling her to run.
He was telling her there was something she could do.
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
Adrian noticed.
He noticed everything.
"Coffee?" Lena called from the kitchen.
Mara looked away.
"Please."
Lena appeared with three cups.
She handed one to Mara, one to Adrian, then kept the third.
Adrian accepted his.
Mara stared at him.
"What?"
"You drink coffee."
"Sometimes."
"You're human."
"Debatable," Lena said.
Mara laughed.
Adrian looked at her.
It was a small thing.
A glance.
But she felt it.
He looked away first.
Mara hated the warmth that moved through her.
This man had been in her apartment for less than an hour.
She did not know him.
She knew his name.
His profession.
His age, according to the information her producer had sent.
Forty-two.
Thirteen years older than her.
She had no reason to be aware of that.
Yet she was.
Adrian set down his cup.
"I need to ask you something."
Mara's amusement disappeared.
"What?"
"Who knows about the ledger?"
Her hand stopped halfway to the coffee.
"What ledger?"
He studied her face.
"The one Naomi mentioned."
Mara stared.
Naomi had never mentioned a ledger.
Not to her.
Not directly.
"She didn't."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"Then someone else knows."
Mara slowly lowered her cup.
The apartment suddenly seemed too quiet again.
Lena put her coffee down.
"What is a ledger?"
Mara looked at Adrian.
He was no longer studying the room.
He was studying her.
And for the first time since he had walked through her door, Mara had the distinct feeling that he knew something she didn't.
"That's what we're going to find out," he said.
He reached for his phone.
A notification appeared.
Adrian read it.
His face went completely still.
"What?" Mara asked.
He looked at her.
"Someone accessed your building records."
Mara's stomach dropped.
"Which records?"
"Resident information."
"Mine?"
He did not answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Adrian slipped his phone into his pocket.
"From now on, you don't leave this apartment without me."
Mara stared at him.
She wanted to argue.
She wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous.
Instead, she looked toward the window.
Then the door.
Then the keys in her hand.
For the first time, the world outside her apartment did not feel ordinary.
It felt like someone had started learning her routine.
And somewhere in Chicago, someone already knew where she lived.