I’d been primed for action, and my heart sank as Raphael rang the buzzer a second time. I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the possibility that Keller might not be home.
Raphael tried the buzzer a third time, but the result was the same. Then he headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” I asked as I followed.
He gave me a look. “Up to Keller’s apartment. Where else?”
“But he’s not home.”
“So we’ll wait for him.”
Raphael didn’t bother with any further information. I had a feeling we were about to do something I was going to regret, but I followed him anyway.
This was a small building, and there were only three apartments on each floor. The bulb at one end of the third-floor hallway was burned out, which made it easy to see the light that shone under the door of David Keller’s apartment. Of course, this was the city, and it was generally a good idea to leave a light or two on when you were gone, to discourage certain segments of the population from paying a visit.
When we got closer, I could hear the faint sound of music coming from behind the door. It sounded like something classically romantic, and I suddenly wondered if Keller hadn’t answered the doorbell because he was otherwise occupied.
Raphael didn’t seem to care if he was interrupting. He knocked on the door, but there was still no response. Then he put his hand on the doorknob and gave it a turn.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I realized the door wasn’t locked. Raphael gave me a stern look. “Don’t touch anything, just in case.”
I could have asked “Just in case what?” But I didn’t, because I had a pretty good idea what he meant.
Raphael went in first, beckoning me to follow and stay behind him. I didn’t like taking orders from him, but I did it anyway. He closed the door softly once I was in.
The apartment was tiny and cramped, and every flat surface was covered in books and papers. The room we were in was a combination living room and kitchenette, though it looked like Keller used the kitchenette for book storage rather than cooking. There was only one doorway visible other than the front door. I couldn’t imagine living in an apartment that didn’t even have a coat closet, but it looked like a straight-backed chair tucked into one corner was an unofficial coat rack.
The music was a little louder now, and it was clearly coming from behind the closed door. If Keller had a girl in there—or a boy, for that matter—this was going to be very embarrassing. But somehow, I didn’t think that was going to be the case. Raphael put a finger to his lips, and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t about to make conversation while we were breaking into someone’s apartment.
I followed Raphael through the piles of books that were strewn carelessly on the floor. He paused in front of the door, which could only lead to the bedroom. We both listened intently, but there was no sound from inside other than the music.
His face grim, Raphael pushed open the door and peeked inside. I held my breath.
Raphael’s head and shoulders drooped, and he let out a sigh of resignation. I tried to peek around his shoulder, but he blocked me with one arm and pushed me back.
“You don’t want to see this,” he warned.
No, of course I didn’t. But I ducked under Raphael’s arm anyway.
David Keller lay naked on the bed. Duct tape sealed his mouth and circled his wrists and ankles. His eyes were wide and staring, and the bloody circular wound in the center of his forehead looked almost like a third eye. The pillow and mattress beneath him were soaked in blood, and I belatedly noticed the nasty, coppery odor.
Suddenly light-headed, I swayed and reached out to grab the door frame to keep from falling. Raphael snatched my hand away before I made contact.
“Don’t touch anything!” he snapped. “Do you really want your fingerprints here?”
That thought didn’t do much for my light-headedness. For a moment, I seriously thought I was about to faint. Raphael kept me on my feet, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. With his free hand, he used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe off the doorknob, then dragged me through the cluttered room back to the front door.
“Get a grip on yourself,” he said sharply, giving me a little shake for emphasis. “We need to get out of here before anyone sees us.”
I blinked, hoping that would make the dizziness go away. It didn’t, but I gritted my teeth and pushed away from Raphael. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could stand on my own power, and I took a deep breath to further steady myself.
Raphael peered out of the peephole, making sure the coast was clear. Then he opened the door and once again used his T-shirt to wipe down the knob, both inside and out.
“Keep your head down,” Raphael said, “and if we run into anyone, try to keep me between you and them. You’re more easily identifiable than I am.”
Unfortunately true. Just for tonight, I wished my hair were some sedate, nondescript color. Maybe I needed to rethink my flamboyant look now that I was constantly running from trouble.
We made it all the way to the first floor without being spotted, but we had the bad luck of opening the front door at the exact same time someone was coming in. I lowered my head and hunched my shoulders, trying to look smaller than I really was, and I slid my arm through Raphael’s, using his body for cover. My mouth was bone dry, and I had to remind myself to breathe or I might have passed out.
Because I was hiding behind Raphael, I didn’t get a good look at the young couple who came in, but from what I could tell, they seemed to be in too much of a hurry to find the nearest bedroom to pay much attention to Raphael and me.
My nerves still on red alert, I allowed Raphael to lead me out into the street and put a few blocks between us and Keller’s apartment before calling a cab to take us home.
CHAPTER 18
We hadn’t gotten more than two blocks before Raphael suddenly, and without consulting me, told the cabbie there was a change in plans and gave him his own address. The cabbie, much quieter than our previous one, barely gave a grunt of acknowledgment as he changed course. I gave Raphael a furious look— I didn’t want to spend more time in his company than was absolutely necessary—but of course I didn’t dare question him in front of a witness.
I fumed in silence as we drove past the university and into a residential area that was too rich for the average student’s blood. At a guess, I’d say it was a popular area for faculty.
Tommy Brewster had been living in student housing, sharing his apartment with a slimy roommate, but that situation hadn’t been to Raphael’s liking. As soon as he’d moved into Tommy’s body, he’d ditched the roommate and relocated to a town house. I didn’t know where he got the money to afford the nice town house, and I didn’t ask. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.
As soon as we stepped out of the cab, Raphael whipped out his cell phone.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” I said, grabbing his wrist. “First, you tell me why the change of plans.”
He broke my grip easily. His face looked uncommonly grim as he held the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and unlocked his front door. “Just give me a minute,” he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. “Tell me what the hell you’re up to!” I demanded, but he ignored me.
The tension visibly eased from his shoulders when someone answered his call. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation at all, but Raphael considerately clued me in as to whom he was calling.
“Saul,” he said, sounding relieved. “You need to get out of Morgan’s apartment ASAP. Come to my place, and I’ll explain.”
I didn’t need to hear the other end of the conversation to know Saul’s reaction. Raphael’s jaw tightened. He pushed open his front door, then shoved me over the threshold when I stubbornly refused to move.