“Riggle seems like a real control freak.”

Somers nodded.

“If we search her place without him telling us to, he’s going to blow a gasket.”

“We’re detectives,” Somers said. “This isn’t the Girl Scouts, and I don’t need anybody to tell me how to do my job.”

Dulac cocked his head.

“You got a problem with that?” Somers said.

“Oh, no. I’ll follow you into hell, man. I was just trying to figure out if you were starting to look like Hazard too. Some couples are like that, you know. You sound like him, but—hey, wait.”

Somers got out and shut the door behind him.

“Front door is on the other side,” Dulac said as he got out of the car.

“Yeah.”

“Dude, drive around. It’s fucking July out there; I don’t want to ruin this suit.”

Dulac was right; the humid heat of a Midwest summer had swamped Somers immediately. But Somers still walked the length of the block, studying the back of Susan’s apartment and the units to either side. Then he walked the block in the other direction. Dulac stood near the Mustang, hands on his hips, staring.

“Walk down there and then back,” Somers said.

“It’s really hot. We could drive to the end of the block and back.”

“You’re just making this take longer.”

Grumbling, Dulac made his way to the end of the block and back. When he joined Somers, he said, “So?”

“What’d you notice?”

“This is definitely not the nice part of town.”

“Anything else?”

Wiping his forehead, Dulac said, “She’s got the center apartment. It’s hard to believe nobody heard the Keeper break in and take her. Or a gunshot, for that matter.”

“Yeah, really hard to believe. Anything else?”

“You can see inside her apartment if the blinds are open, which they are. And I think that means she was trusting the privacy fence too much. I bet if I walked that block at a few different times of day, I could figure out her schedule pretty easily.”

“Good,” Somers said.

“And she liked flamingos.”

Somers raised an eyebrow.

“Check it out,” Dulac said. “She’s got a million of those lawn ornaments.”

“How the hell did you see that?”

“Reflected in the glass, bro. Use your eyes.”

Somers grinned. “That’s really good.”

“Yeah, man. Next time, I’m going up against Emery in I fucking spy.”

“Honestly, he’d probably like that. As long as he wins. Come on.”

Somers led Dulac around to the front of the house. As they approached the door, two faint noises disturbed the silence: one was a steady beep-beep-beep; the second was more soothing, and it sounded like a scale of notes on a synthesizer, but it was just as insistent. Somers and Dulac had stopped on the way to pick up a spare key from the property management company, and when he tried it in the lock, it turned easily. Closed-up air, rank with corruption, wafted through the open doorway. He got out a pair of gloves and booties, dragged them on, and checked Dulac. He stopped the younger detective before he decked himself out in the same protective gear.