“Once or twice.”

“Maybe, someday, you could humor me and—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

I grinned and jogged ahead, found the right balcony, then waved him over. “Up in the apartment, you didn’t find any blood, did you?”

He shook his head and crouched.

“And scent trails? You could make out Jaz and Sonny, right? Oh, and now you know what Guy smells like—”

“Cologne. Which—” he glanced up at me, “—most men don’t wear to go hunting for lost friends.”

“Well, he didn’t wear it for me, considering he didn’t know I was at the apartment. Maybe he was hoping for company—heading out for some club-hopping to clear his head. But you could still smell his scent, couldn’t you?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, then you have your four baseline scents including mine. Was there anyone else—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “No, there wasn’t. Now, may I finish what I’m trying to do here? Before someone hears us?”

“Sorry, I’m just—”

“Anxious. I know.” As he ducked, I thought he brushed his lips across the top of my head. “Just a few minutes, and I’ll have your answers.”

He sniffed the ground without asking me to turn away. Then he tossed me the keys. “You go back to the car. I’ll finish up here.”

A few minutes later, he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Nothing.”

“No sign of Jaz or Sonny?”

“Almost no sign of anyone. There’s little reason for anyone to walk that way unless they were planning a break-in—there are no ground-level patios and it isn’t a shortcut to anywhere. The only trails I found were faint.”

“Meaning old.”

He nodded.

“And upstairs? Only the four of us?”

“That’s harder to tell. Obviously far more traffic and it’s hard for me to distinguish a day-old scent from an hour-old one. But I’m reasonably certain no one else was in that apartment today. And I’m absolutely certain no one climbed up or down that balcony. If the door was cracked open, it’s because one of those boys opened it, and didn’t close it right.”

“Damn it, this doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

HOPE MATING INSTINCT

HOPE

MATING INSTINCT

We returned to my apartment. As we walked into the building, I said, “Thank you, Karl.”

He hesitated, hand on the door.

I touched his arm. “I mean it. Thank you.”

He nodded. As we walked through the lobby, Karl cleared his throat. “I’m sure it might be busy for you tomorrow, but if you can find the time, I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Dinner? Uh, sure.”

“It’s my birthday.”

The admission was so unlike Karl that I was silent until we reached the elevator.

“I’d ask how old you’ll be, but I know I’ll never get it from you.”

“Fifty.”