Emma was on my heels as we walked out of her building. “You think that if Ryan left the apartment that night, it’ll be on his video?”

“It’s worth looking, don’t you think?” I asked. She still looked hesitant, and I stopped. “We have to try. There has to be some way to prove that he was here, other than your word and mine.”

She nodded, and we continued on, hurrying down the block and past the dog park. I looked at her and saw that she looked scared. I felt bad for her. She’d told me how much she was in love with Hooks, and I knew this couldn’t be easy for her.

When we got to Bolton’s apartment, I reached out and pushed his buzzer.

“Yeah?” he said. “Who is it?”

I looked over at Emma and nodded.

“Mr. Bolton,” she said. “It’s Emma Brighton from next door.”

There was silence for a moment, and then he spoke again. “What do you want?”

She blinked and pointed at the intercom, but I shook my head.

“I was hoping I could come up for a minute to talk to you.”

There was another moment of silence, and then he buzzed the door open.

We walked inside and took the elevator to the second floor. When we stepped out of the elevator, he was standing in a doorway on the right side of the hallway. He cursed when he saw us walking toward him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Not her again.”

“We need to talk to you,” Emma said.

But he shook his head. “She can’t come into my home.”

“I’ll wait here,” I said to Emma as we got closer to his door. “Just take a look at the videos.”

She stared at me for a moment, then nodded. As she was walking inside, I had a moment of fear that she might see the evidence against Hooks and decide to delete it.

“Emma,” I said, and she turned around. “Please, don’t do anything…”

“Stupid?” she asked. She turned and walked inside.

Bolton slammed the door with a snarl in my direction. I paced in the hallway a few moments, and there was a part of me that considered checking to see if he’d locked the door.

You can’t just barge in.

But a minute turned into five, and five turned into ten. I was seriously considering knocking on the door when it opened and Emma walked out.

“Well?” I said, stepping forward. “Did you see it?”

Her eyes were sad and tired, and she nodded.

“He’s on the video,” she said.

“I knew it!” I said. “Do you have it?”

“No,” she said, spreading her hands. “Mr. Bolton is going to email it to me.”

“He is?” I asked, frowning. “Are you sure?”