I shook the pants out, and Klein’s keys jangled onto the floor. I fished them out and held them up to Ellen. She reached for them, and I had a sudden vision of Ellen flooring the gas pedal, driving off into the distance, and leaving me behind with Klein’s body in the bedroom.

“Huh-uh,” I said, snatching them back and shouldering past her and out the front door, checking both directions before I scurried into the lobby.

Ellen’s apartment was located on only the second floor of the Alto Nido. It was a short elevator ride down to the subterranean parking garage, but I counted the steps between Ellen’s front door and the lift: fifty-six. Three apartments on either side. One person stepping out into the hallway for a late-night drive, to take out the trash, and it’d be game over. No, it would have to be the fire escape. We’d have to try not to fumble Klein’s body over the side on the way down.

It didn’t take me long to find his car, a silver Audi with vanity plates that read MOVIEMN. At least he’d take his last ride in style. I checked before I slid in to see if anyone had noticed me—the last thing I needed was some witness remembering a tall brunette who didn’t live in the building driving a car with vanity plates into the alley. At the last minute, I remembered the bungee cords in my trunk—I’d helped Lou move a bookshelf weeks ago—and doubled back to my car to fish them out, taking the steps three at a time to get back to Ellen’s apartment.

When I opened the door, I recoiled back over the threshold, my eyes burning. The entire apartment reeked of bleach. I wondered if the smell could seep through the walls, if the neighbors would smell it and wonder. Coughing, I propped the windows open, then immediately shut them—that wouldn’t help our low profile.

In the bedroom, Klein was still swaddled in patchy sheets where I’d left him, the rest of the bed naked beneath him. Ellen was crouched above his head, careful not to touch the body, sobbing as she scrubbed at the reddening headboard, making a frothy mess of herself.

“Ellen,” I said, “we have to go.”

It wasn’t ideal—there was so much left to clean—but with the car parked in the alley, we had to move quickly. Tomorrow, when the clues started to pile up, I didn’t want anyone remembering Klein’s car parked behind the Alto Nido. Hey, did he know anyone there? Wait a minute, a bit player from one of his movies lives here? Strange coincidence . . .

She didn’t seem to hear me, her breathing getting heavier, her sobs turning into hiccups as she scoured the fabric.

“Ellen!”