“There’s a locksmith on the way,” Julian informed them. “I’ll personally see to it that no one crosses that tape.”

“The tape? Right.” Cop number two turned and pulled it off the door. “We’re done here. Can’t just leave this stuff lying around. People use it for the damnedest things.”

Cop number one murmured something too low to be overheard and they laughed together in a manly way as they stepped into the elevator. By the time the doors shut behind them, Tony, Julian, Moira, and the woman with Arra’s cats were alone in the hall.

Julian’s lip curled. “Assholes.”

“No argument from me,” Tony muttered. Faggot comments had a distinct tone of their own. No need to hear the actual words. And while they were sharing this moment of solidarity . . . “Listen, Julian, there’s a chance that Arra may have left something about where she was going in the calendar on her computer. We ought to have a look.”

The “we” was almost enough.

“If I don’t find her, she could lose her job.”

Which was more or less the truth.

“No.” The woman with Arra’s cats shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

And that settled it.

Julian shifted the Chihuahua to his other arm and pushed the door open. “I’m the president of the co-op board and I think we should do everything we can to help a neighbor keep her job.”

“Well, when I was president . . .”

“You were the president, Vera. You aren’t now.”

Moira growled an agreement.

Tony ignored all three of them and headed toward the computers, moving slowly enough to give the place a thorough once over. No shadows where they shouldn’t be. No inexplicable stains. The laptop was gone, but the desktop was exactly where he remembered it although he couldn’t remember ever having seen one of Arra’s computers without a game of spider solitaire running. And, as it turned out, he couldn’t get into her documents without a password.

“I think the police should be doing this!”

His escort had caught up.

“The police can’t crack her computer without a warrant. I know. I was on DaVinci’s Inquest.”

“Years ago and you were a corpse!”

Tony tuned out the argument and typed in “Za-zuWhitby.”

When it worked, there was a gratifying intake of breath from Julian. “How did you know?”

“Those cats are the only things she cares about.” Working the mouse with his right hand, he dragged his phone out of his pocket with his left and thumbed the speed dial. Still no answer from her cell. Pity. He’d had a sudden idea that involved telling her he was taking both cats to the Shadowlord. That’d get her thumb out of her ass PDQ.

Nothing on her calendar. It didn’t look like she ever used her calendar.