She turned the knob and walked inside. On a side panel, an alarm blinked green. The police had apparently not bothered to reengage it after their investigation. It made sense. There was no one to protect. Julian Harris had lived alone and had no family to speak of. In a few more weeks, the courts would declare his estate property of the city because there was no one to claim it. Erin understood the isolation.

Quietly, she wandered down the hallway he’d lined with jazz legends. Etta, Duke, Louis, Dinah, and others greeted visitors from framed black-and-white photos. A couple even sported autographs. At the end of the short gallery, dust motes floated in the air, dancing on streaks of colored light. As she took measured steps, original hardwoods creaked beneath her feet. The townhome had the musty smell of abandonment.

She poked her head into the main room on the ground floor. Shaker-style furniture contrasted nicely with lush accoutrements such as a vintage Chesterfield sofa in deep rose. Tiffany lamps perched on high pedestals of oak. Their motifs mirrored the pastoral scenes in the glass windows—outside of which, Gabriel fumbled with the onerous locks that secured the windows.

Erin reluctantly unlatched the heavy casement and lifted the hook holding the window in place. The glass swung out on its hinges, and behind the pane she heard a muffled curse.

“How did you get inside?” Gabriel asked as he hoisted himself over the side. Luckily, most of the townhomes had been built at ground level. The climb inside required only a short fall.

“Through the front door.” She graciously helped him to his feet, pleased to have bested him. Gabriel seemed to be the type of man who was used to winning. He could stand to lose on occasion, she decided. Lifting a brow, she shrugged. “Seemed easier than the window.”

“You had a key?” He approached her, equal parts impressed and annoyed.

Erin shrugged again. “No. I’m just good with locks.” Unwilling to say more, she whirled around and headed for the stairs. The damp heat inside mimicked the atmosphere beyond the door. In deference, she shrugged off the gray jacket that matched his eyes and hung it on the newel post. It amazed her that the color could be the same and yet so dramatically different. “I’ll be upstairs,” she announced, climbing quickly.

“I’m coming with you.” Gabriel fell in step behind her. Erin halted on the step and turned to face him. “Let’s get one thing clear. We’re not here together. I’m here and you’re here. That’s all.”

“I told you I’m not letting go of this story,” he reminded her. “And that magically open door tells me not to underestimate you. Maybe I can help you, too.”

“I didn’t ask for help, and I don’t need it.”