"Can I help you?" Her voice is careful, defensive.
"I'm looking for Sarah Keller. Is she in?"
Her eyes narrow slightly. "Who's asking?"
Smart girl.
"My name's Dane Wolfe. I'm a private investigator." I don't flash a badge—don't have one to flash—but my tone carries enough authority that people rarely question it.
"Sarah's not here." She starts to close the door.
I put my hand against the frame, not forcefully, but enough to stop her. "When's the last time you saw her?"
The suspicion in her eyes deepens. "Why do you need to know that?"
"Because I'm concerned. Sarah's been spending time with someone… dangerous." I lower my voice. "A wealthy man named Brian Langford."
Something changes in her expression—recognition, followed by unease.
"You know him?" I press.
She hesitates. "She mentioned interviewing for an internship with some hot-shot guy. Wouldn't shut up about it actually."
"When did you last see her?"
She crosses her arms. "Two days ago. She said she was going to meet someone about the internship." A pause. "She hasn't been back."
The cold feeling in my gut solidifies into ice. "Has she been answering texts? Calls?"
"No. Which isn't like her. I figured she was staying with a friend or..." She trails off, the implication hanging between us.
"Or with a man," I finish for her, thinking Sarah's phone must be on silent or this girl might have heard it. "Did she say specifically where she was going?"
"No. Just that it was about the internship. Listen, is Sarah in trouble? Should I be worried?"
I consider lying, but decide against it. "I don't know yet. But I am. Look, if she contacts you, don't tell her about me. Just let me know immediately." I hand her my card. "Any time, day or night."
She takes my card like it might bite her, holding it between two slender fingers.
"If she calls you, it probably won't be from her personal phone," I say, watching her reaction carefully.
Her brow furrows. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't she use her own phone?"
"Because I think her phone is still here. In your room."
She stares at me, eyes widening slightly. The look people get when reality shifts under their feet, when the normal world shows its teeth.
"That's... that's crazy. She takes that thing everywhere. Sleeps with it under her pillow."
"If you search, you'll find her phone is in there." I nod toward the door, not breaking eye contact.
Her mouth opens, closes, opens again. Like a fish suddenly contemplating the concept of water. "How would you know that?"
I don't answer. People fill silences with their own fears better than I ever could.
She backs into the room, eyes still locked on mine. "This is seriously fucked up. Who are you really?"
"Someone who wants to make sure Sarah is all right."