Page 48 of After 5
He informed me Brodie had turned up empty at Caiyan’s offices and at his home in Scotland. Jake gave me the thumbs up to check the apartment.
“My surveillance team hasn’t seen Caiyan in months, but he could be in disguise. There hasn’t been anyone in the apartment all week. I’m clearing you to search it because you have a key and prior knowledge of the interior contents. If there’s any sign of a Mafuso, you get the hell out of there.”
“Sure thing, boss.” I disconnected and smiled as I pulled into my driveway. I couldn’t wait to tell Gertie she was taking a little trip.
* * *
We landedin Central Park at my normal hidey hole amongst the Ramble. My summer mini-shift dress stuck to my skin as we walked toward Caiyan’s apartment. The June afternoon lent itself to humid and hot, the breeze off the Hudson blocked by the jungle of concrete surrounding the park. I tapped my flip-flop as we waited for the cars to clear Central Park West. After we jaywalked across the street, the sturdy doorman stopped us at the entrance.
“Miss Cloud.” He bobbed his head in my direction.
It always surprised me the doorman knew my name. I guess it was their job to know the comings and goings of their tenants, but it still caught me off guard. His dark brown eyes assessed me as I spoke.
“Hi, I’m going up to 10A.” I nonchalantly started to pass him.
He held an arm out, halting my advance. “Sorry, ma’am, Mr. McGregor left strict orders. No one allowed upstairs. Only the missus and her assistant.”
Gertie looked sideways at me. I paused then explained I was the missus.
“No ma’am, you’re the ex-missus.”
The heat flushed my face as Gertie dragged me away from the door.
“What did he mean by the missus?” I asked Gertie. My voice cracked as I spoke. “You don’t think Caiyan has her living here, do you?”
Gertie shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me, the rat bastard.”
“We need to get up there.” I leaned back and counted the floors to ten, identifying the windows belonging to Caiyan.
“How are we gonna do that, when he’s got it guarded by stubby Mike Tyson? They know you by sight.”
“There has to be another entrance,” I said.
The large, white building stretched the entire block from 86th to 87th street. As the doorman greeted another resident, we skirted around the west side of the building.
A delivery driver unloaded boxes onto a dolly. Gertie and I stood next to the subway stop pretending to check my phone for routes. As he pushed the boxes through the iron gate leading to the back of the building, we followed him.
He knocked twice on a door and it opened. As he let the door shut behind him, I stuck my flip-flop in the jam. Gertie and I waited. No one returned to find the door ajar. We tiptoed inside to find the hallway empty. My guess would be whoever let him inside returned to his post. I replaced my flip-flop, and we took the service elevator to the tenth floor.
Gertie knocked on Caiyan’s apartment door.
I released a breath when no one answered and palmed the key Caiyan had given me. It was his way of establishing a sense of trust between us and to prove he had surrendered his womanizing ways.
“I don’t think anyone’s home,” Gertie said.
“Caiyan gave me the key, but I think he meant for me to use it in case of an emergency.”
Gertie harrumphed at me. “He’s engaged to Satan’s bitch. If you don’t figure out why, he’s going to marry her. Think of it as an emergency for your biological clock and time’s a tickin’.”
I inserted the key into the lock, and turned it open. We entered the apartment, and I stopped short in the hallway. Gertie bumped into me.
“What’s wrong? Is he here?” she asked, looking frantically around the foyer.
“No, it smells like him.” The apartment smelled of cinnamon and leather. My knees felt weak, and I stood paralyzed in the entry.
Gertie pushed past me. “Toughen up, soldier. There’s no time to get gooey, we need answers.”
She was right. I needed to get a grip.
