Page 48 of Pied Sniper

“We’ll take mine and I’ll get someone to return Lily’s.”

“Works for me.”

We jogged down the stairs a couple minutes later, a sense of urgency hastening our pace. “Isn’t it strange that, if theywereobserving Tiffany, they didn’t remove the telescope prior to her abduction,” I said as we buckled our seatbelts in Solomon’s SUV. “If I committed a crime like that, I would be sure to avoid returning anywhere near the area.”

“It could have been a crime of opportunity. They were observing her patterns while planning a pretext to reach her, and when they saw she was alone, they decided to go for it. Perhaps they were running out of time to execute their plan, for whatever reason.” Solomon backed the car out of the space and accelerated towards the exit. “Assuming that’s all correct, it’s still amateur hour. They had to assume the police would assess the scene.”

“I suppose it’s hard to rehearse a kidnap.”

Solomon shot me a look. “I’d rehearse the crap out of it if I planned to get away with it. Wouldn’t you?”

“I certainly wouldn’t do it live on camera.” I paused, thinking about that choice. “Although, you’re right, they might not have known that. If they were watching her, they might have thought she was talking to herself or had her phone on speaker. They might even conclude she was practicing for another video.”

“Amateur not to check,” replied Solomon.

I slumped in my seat. “Okay, so if all the assumptions we’re making are correct, it should make it easier to find them, right? Amateurs usually make fatal mistakes.”

Solomon glanced across at me. “Let’s hope they make another big one.”

As he drove, I fidgeted, anxious to get there. When we finally rolled past the building, it was surrounded by six-foot-tall chain link fencing. Signs of “No Trespassing” were hanging on the fence at regular intervals. I stared, but found no evidence of contractors at work. Apart from a tortoiseshell cat basking on the sidewalk near the entrance, there were no signs of life at all. Not even a security guard.

“We can rule out any legitimate residents,” said Solomon as he flipped on the blinker and guided the car onto a side street. A couple of blocks away was where he parked.

“Maybe there’s a superintendent living onsite?” Even though I knew it was unlikely. A superintendent in a derelict building, who just happened to pick an apartment overlooking Tiffany’s, and had a penchant for stargazing? “You know,” I added. “It could just be a Peeping Tom. Tiffany is an attractive female and her drapes don’t look like they were ever drawn.”

“Could be,” agreed Solomon as he stepped out. I followed him around to the back of the car. “But I think on the scale of probability, it’s unlikely.”

“I think we should head straight up there, take a look inside the apartment, and get out as fast as we can,” I said. The idea of creeping around a derelict building gave me chills and I was glad Solomon came with me. I’d seen all the horror films: no one goes into the basement, attic, or derelict building and survives. There was one factor in my favor: it was daylight. Having been in plenty of sticky situations by myself, I knew the importance of clear vision and backup. “Plus, we don’t know if the building is dangerously condemned.”

“If we find anything, we’ll call Garrett immediately,” said Solomon.

“Good,” I said as we started towards the building, avoiding the narrow sidewalk and sticking to the road. The side streets were surprisingly quiet. We passed a laundromat, a taxicab office, and a small grocery store, but there were very few people around. Mostly everyone was at work, I figured, and the few businesses seemed to serve only those local residences. With the stark absence of cafés, delis and boutiques, it wasn’t the kind of area I’d stroll around for no reason. When we reached the end of the street, we paused and watched the building for a short while but didn’t see any security patrols. “There’s a gap between the gates over there,” I said, pointing. “I bet someone’s been exploring the premises aside from our perp. Probably local kids or petty thieves.”

“I would assume the contractors already stripped anything of value. Let’s go.” Solomon jogged ahead and I followed him. He ducked under the chain and padlock before sliding through sideways as the gate jangled loosely on its hinges. I followed, glad the space was far more forgiving for my size. We paused at the main entrance, finding it locked. “Give me a moment,” said Solomon, reaching into his pocket. He slid a thin tool into the lock, adjusted it and smiled as he easily pulled open the gate.

“I need to learn how to do that,” I said. “Even Lily can pick locks.”

“I can teach you.”

“Not on a date night,” I decided. “Maybe on a slow day.”

“I like hearing that you thought I meant it as a date night activity.” Solomon flashed a smile. “Are you trying to say I need to put more effort into our dating plans?”

“No, I enjoy our date nights, but if you happened to pull out all the stops, you won’t find me complaining.”

“How will I find you?”

“Little black dress, high heels.”

Solomon’s eyebrows raised a fraction. “Noted.”

We stepped into the lobby, bright from the daylight flooding the glass entryway and I pressed my knuckle against the elevator call button. “I don’t think there’s any electricity,” I said when the button remained dark.

“Figures. We can take the stairs.”

I glanced up at the ceiling. Several flights of stairs were just my luck but at least I’d worn sneakers to work. Speaking of my footwear, that was happening more often. What became of my fancy heels and smart clothes? Why was I suddenly so comfortable in my sneakers, skinny jeans and cozy sweaters? Had I become — I gasped – indifferent to fashion?

“What’s wrong?” asked Solomon.

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