Metal tinkled across asphalt, like someone had kicked a screw. It came from the west side of the shop. I extinguished the light and ran that way just in time to see the heels of someone darting around the corner. White soles. Sneakers.

Knockback spell at the ready, I rounded the rear of the garage. Empty. There was, however, a convenient Dumpster. I slid off my boots and crept along the wall until I was beside the bin. I listened and flexed my fingers, ready to cast at the first squeak of a shoe. When all stayed silent, I whispered a sensing spell. It came back positive.

Cardboard boxes were scattered around the base. I found the sturdiest, grabbed the edge of the bin, and swung up onto the box. It started to collapse just as I lifted off it.

The top of the bin was dented and filled with what I prayed was rainwater, not garbage sludge. I pushed to my feet and took one slow step across, knockback spell prepped to send my stalker reeling back the moment he noticed—

A sharp intake of breath. Above me. I wheeled to catch only a glimpse of someone dressed in black before he plummeted off the other side of the roof. Footsteps pounded pavement. I jumped down and tore off, but by the time I reached the street, it was empty.

I stood on the sidewalk. Looked left. Looked right. Nothing. Shit!

I cast my sensing spell. Someone was still nearby. I turned as a dark figure stepped from the shadows. My hands flew up in a knockback, cut short when I saw the scowling face of Bruyn’s older officer.

I glanced down at his shoes. Loafers. Dark soles. Damn.

“Breaking and entering is a crime, Miss Levine,” he said as he strode over to me.

I looked around at the shops, mostly vacant. “Breaking in ... where? And if I was, I wouldn’t park my bike under a streetlamp.”

His scowl deepened.

“I’m fixing it,” I waved at the tools still scattered around the bike. “The tire blew and they were keeping my bike here while I grabbed a new one from Vancouver. My bike. My tire. My tools. I didn’t break in anywhere.” Well, technically, I did, to get my bike, but I didn’t see the need to mention that.

“You shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night,” he said. “We’ve got a killer on the loose, who likes ’em young and pretty.” He smiled, as if imagining me lying inside a ring of crime-scene tape.

“I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten,” I said. “Thanks.”

I started back to my bike, then turned.

“Did you see anyone else out here?” I asked. “I could have sworn I heard footsteps just a minute ago. That’s why I was looking around.”

“Nobody but me. That’s the way it should be, this time of night.”