The Man Who Crossed Worlds (Miles Franco #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Desmond’s car was a blue convertible number, far too shiny to be driving around the darker streets of Bluegate. The rain was still coming down so I kept the top up and drove nice and slow. I stopped at an all-night service station and bought a Red Bull, then chugged it down as I drove.

The address Rob had given me led me to an apartment building well inside the 23rd Street Bikers’ territory, not too far from the police station. For some reason I’d expected Vivian to live somewhere prettied up and clean, maybe a house out in the suburbs with a front lawn and a white fence. It boded well that she lived in a building almost as run-down as mine. Honest cops don’t take home much money. Or maybe she just knew how to hide the wealth she’d accumulated.

I did a drive-by of the building and kept my eyes peeled for surveillance teams. It looked clear; no one sitting in the parked cars lining the streets, and no one hiding in the shadows of street corners. I went on a little bit, parked the car around the corner, and made my way back to the apartment building.

My heart was already upping its tempo by the time I reached the door on the ground floor. I popped my collar and glanced around, but the street was still deserted. It wasn’t light yet, but it wouldn’t be long before the early risers started leaving home to get to their shitty jobs. If Todd had his way, it wouldn’t be long before my face was plastered over the newspapers, and I didn’t want to be around when that happened.

I tried the handle on the weathered door to the building. Locked. I glanced around again, pulled a coin and the bottle of Kemia from my pocket, and opened a Pin Hole. The air warped around the brass keyhole, and the lock clicked. I pushed open the door, slipped inside, and let the Pin Hole close.

The lobby was designed in some kind of faux-Victorian aesthetic. I checked the mailboxes near the door and found Apartment 402 labeled “Reed”.

I gave the stairs half a look then settled on the elevator with the old-fashioned sliding gate. I’d rather fall to my death in the rickety-looking machine than climb one more set of stairs.

The elevator grunted and whirred to life and started its slow ascent. As it did, I considered my game plan. No matter whether Vivian was in on Todd’s schemes or not, she might not be happy to see me.

With a bit of luck, she’d still be in bed and I could make sure she was unarmed before I talked to her. I didn’t want to eat a bullet because of a misunderstanding. I fingered the coins in my pocket and decided none of them were specific enough to be of any use.

The elevator shuddered to a halt and I yanked open the gate. No one trod the ugly green carpet, and all the doors were closed. Good.

I glanced around, looking for what I needed. There, a bit of the skirting board was loose. I flipped open my knife, grimaced a little at the act of vandalism I was about to undertake—I thought I’d outgrown all that—and pried the skirting board away. I put my shoe into it and the half-rotten wood snapped, leaving me with a nice little chunk in my hand. It’d do the trick. I carved myself a circle, returned my knife to my pocket, and got my Kemia ready.

Apartment 402 was down the right side, near a small window that looked out onto the street. I put my ear against the keyhole and closed my eyes. No sound from inside. Or at least nothing I could hear over the pounding in my head.

Okay, be cool, Miles. I just had to get in, convince Vivian not to shoot me, and tell her what I knew. Piece of cake.

I gently turned the handle, but it was locked as well. I used the same trick with the Pin Hole to unlock it, then held my breath and pushed open the door.

It was dark inside, but not pitch black. The front door opened into some sort of living room, with a kitchen bench to the right and closed doors to the left. Instead of a television, the couch sat opposite a bookshelf that was stacked to the brim and still had a dozen books on the floor around it. A laptop sat on a little circular table in the corner, with what looked like a textbook open next to it.