Page 86 of Cold as Hell

Her apartment is on the first floor. That’s one perk of having been here during construction. She might not want upgraded quarters, but she does have the most conveniently located apartment—main level, near the doors and close to the washrooms and common areas, but not right beside them, where noise could be an issue.

Her door is locked. I knock. No answer. I knock again.

“Looking for Yolanda?” a voice says.

I glance over. It’s one of our newest residents, Ingrid, a young woman with an easy smile.

“I am,” I say.

“I saw her getting coffee with Marlon this morning.” She waggles her brows, still smiling. “Maybe he’s finally getting his shot, huh?”

My gut goes cold.

“Detective Butler?” she says. “Are you okay?” Her gaze drops to my stomach. “Wait. You’re supposed to be gone, aren’t you? Having the baby?”

“Something came up,” I say, smoothing out my expression. “I need to speak to YolandaandMarlon. Town business. So if they were together, that’s perfect. You said they were grabbing coffee? When was this?”

She checks her watch. “It’s been a while. Maybe just after eight? They were in the café line ahead of me. I guess they’d be back to work by now.”

I thank her and start to hurry off as another cramp hits. Definitely stress, and for very good reason now. I tamp down the pain and pick up my pace as I beeline for the café.

On the way to the café, I spot Anders and wave him over. I quickly tell him what Ingrid said, and his expression drops the way my stomach did.

“Yolanda,” he whispers. “Oh no.”

“It might be nothing,” I say. “If Jerome did bolt, he could have been making a show of being seen. The coffee line is the best place to do it, and if Yolanda’s there, even better. Everyone including her will confirm he was in that line, chatting and acting normal.”

Except that we can’t get hold of Yolanda. She has the other sat phone, and it’s ringing through to voicemail.

Maybe because she left it in her apartment. She’s obviously been up and around for hours, despite not working until later. She goes out, forgets she has custody of that phone, and it’s ringing away in her apartment.

I test that with the sat phone we brought back with it. I don’t hear anything.

We reach the café. Inside, our bakers Brian and Devon are hard at work. We pull them both aside into the back room and ask about Yolanda and Marlon.

Devon grins, not unlike the way Ingrid did. “Yep, they were here, and they weretogether.Chatting away and everything. I think that fire might finally be sparking.”

Anders shakes his head. “She’s not interested in Marlon.”

Devon’s brows rise. “And you know that how? Because you’ve been keeping tabs?”

Is it my imagination, or does Anders flush a little? He definitely glances away as he shrugs. “We talk. She knows he’s interested, and she’s not, and I’ve been subtly trying to tell him that without him jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

“Thatyou’reinterested in Yolanda,” Devon says. “Which would be totally the wrong conclusion, right?”

Brian elbows his husband. “Stop matchmaking. Will’s right. Yolanda’s not interested in Marlon. She must have really wanted that coffee today. Otherwise, she’d have cut out of line again, like she usually does when Marlon shows up.”

I frown. “What’s this?”

Brian takes a batch of muffins from the oven. “It’s only been a couple of times, but it’s pretty obvious. Marlon comes strolling along when Yolanda’s at the back of the line, and she suddenly forgot something and has to leave.”

“Ouch,” Devon says. “Poor guy.”

Brian shakes his head. “If she’s not interested and he isn’t taking the hint, that’s on him. But today they actually joined the line together. They were deep in conversation. It seemed serious—not the usual early-morning-crowd small talk.”

“Any idea what they were talking about?” I ask.

The two men look at each other. Then Devon says, “Brian was in the back when they got to the counter. I heard something about a noise in the night? Marlon seemed concerned? I didn’t really catch it. They were keeping their voices down.”

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