Chapter 5: The Lock Had Already Been Changed
I headed for my apartment.
Emmett did not ask for the address. He walked half a step behind me through the thinning evening traffic, his charcoal overcoat buttoned against the cold. That confirmed what I had suspected in the alley: he knew where I lived.
My bare foot had begun bleeding through the handkerchief again. Each block forced grit deeper into the cut, but I refused the arm he offered at the first intersection. At the second, he stopped offering.
My building stood above a pharmacy, its front windows reflecting the last gray light. I pressed my key fob to the entry panel. The light flashed red.
I tried again.
“Battery?” Emmett asked.
“It worked this morning.”
A third attempt produced the same flat tone. I called the superintendent from the panel. He answered after several rings, sounding tired until I gave my name.
There was a pause.
“You’re not supposed to have access,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“We received your move-out authorization.”
“I didn’t send one.”
“It came from your account.”
The vestibule glass held my reflection: dark coat, tangled hair, one shoe, blood at my heel. Behind me, Emmett watched the street rather than the door.
“When?” I asked.
“This afternoon. The rent payment was reversed too.”
My phone showed no message from the building, but the management app had logged me out. Password recovery went to an email address I didn’t recognize.
“Let me upstairs,” I said.
“I can’t do that without the property manager.”
“My identification is inside.”
“I’m sorry, Jillian.”
The connection ended.
I leaned against the glass and felt something hard press into my ribs from inside my coat. Not my phone. Lower and flatter.
I slipped my hand into the lining through a tear near the pocket. My fingers touched the corner of a small plastic object.
Emmett turned toward me.
I withdrew my hand empty.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
The lie came too quickly. His eyes settled on the damaged seam, but he let it pass.
A woman came down the stairs carrying a grocery bag. When she opened the inner door, I stepped forward. The superintendent’s voice burst from the panel speaker.
“Ms. Bannon, don’t.”
The woman recoiled, and the door shut between us.
I called the bank. The automated system accepted my card number, then informed me that online access had been suspended because of a disputed transaction. The available balance could not be provided. A representative would be available in fifty-three minutes.
“My money is still there,” I said, though no one had asked.
Emmett took out his phone.
“No.”
“You need the lockout challenged tonight.”
“I said no.”
“You also need somewhere clean to put that foot.”
He made the call anyway. He gave no explanation of who he was, only the building address and a last name I did not recognize. Then he stood quietly while someone spoke for nearly a minute.
When he hung up, he said, “The termination will be held until noon tomorrow.”
“What did you promise?”
“Payment of the reversed rent and the lock-change charge.”
“I didn’t authorize you.”
“No. You didn’t.”
The superintendent appeared behind the glass five minutes later. He carried a temporary fob and a printed receipt. His attention kept shifting from Emmett to the black Navigator that had pulled up across the street.
“You can enter tonight,” he told me. “Management wants proof of identity in the morning.”
He pushed the receipt through the narrow opening beside the door.
The amount at the bottom was more than a month’s rent.
“Who filed the authorization?” I asked.
“All I see is your login.”
“Did anyone come here?”
His face tightened. “A man asked whether you had moved out.”
“Dean?”
“I didn’t get a name.”
Emmett held out his hand for the receipt. I kept it.
The temporary fob unlocked the first door, but before I crossed the vestibule, I looked at him.
“This doesn’t buy my cooperation.”
“No,” he said. “It buys you until noon.”
“And after that?”
“You either prove the request was false, or you owe me for preserving an apartment you may no longer be able to pay for.”
May you like
The inner lock clicked open.
I went upstairs with the hard object still hidden inside my coat and Emmett’s money now standing between me and the street.
