The Apocalypse Contract

CHAPTER 17 - PETER

As Peter rode the elevator up to the third floor of Sydney's apartment building, he mentally practiced the apology he would make for intruding on her solitude. When he reached her apartment door, he realized it would not be needed.

Her door was wide open. The apartment was empty of furniture. A woman in paint splattered overalls was in the process of spreading drop cloths over the floor. Given the scorched appearance of the walls and the stack of paint cans in the corner, it was clear what was happening.

"Excuse me, I was looking for Sydney Rossiter. Isn't this her apartment?"

The painter turned to him. "I don't know nuthin' about that. I just been paid to paint this place."

Peter's eyes swept the vacant apartment, hoping for some clue about Sydney's fate. His gaze landed on a section of scorched carpeting peeking out from under the drop cloth. "What's up with that?" he asked.

The painter kicked the tarp aside to reveal more of the circular scorch mark. "Don't know. Try asking the building manager. Down in 102." She began dragging the cloth back into position, turning her back on Peter to signal she was done with the conversation. Peter headed back to the elevator.

Back on the first floor, he located apartment 102 and knocked on the door. A moment later it was answered by a disheveled, middle-aged man with an unkempt beard.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I just came from apartment 312, looking for Sydney Rossiter, but it's empty. Do you know where she is?"

"No, and if you find her, tell her she better pay for the damage she did. Her security deposit won't come close."

"Damage? What happened?"

"You tell me. A few weeks ago the alarms go off, I go up with my master key, and the place is all full of smoke. She's nowhere. Hasn't been back. Hasn't called. Didn't pay her rent. If she doesn't get in touch by the end of the month, I'm listing the place. And she better pay for those damages. I don't know what the hell she did, but it left burn marks on everything, The carpet, the walls, even the ceiling. Everything. Just a second, I'll get the estimate." He retreated back into the apartment and began shuffling papers on a desk. Peter watched him from the doorway.

Something caught his eye, and he took a step into the apartment. "That's Sydney's laptop."

The apartment manager ceased his paper shuffling and turned around. "What are you talking about?"

"That laptop with all the stickers all over it. It belongs to Sydney. She had it with her when I met her two years ago."

The manager looked at the laptop, then back at Peter. "Well, I'm.. storing her stuff while her place is being painted."

"Storing it requires you keep it plugged in and sitting on your desk, does it?"

The manager just glared at him.

"How about you give me her laptop, and I'll give it to her when I find her. She would prefer that I think, and we wouldn't want anyone getting the idea that you steal from your tenants."

They stood silently for a moment. "You just be sure she gets in touch after you find her." He yanked the charging cord out of the wall, wrapped it around the laptop, and handed them to Peter. "And tell her she has to pay the storage fee if she wants her furniture back."

Peter agreed, grabbed the laptop, and left before the guy could change his mind.

* * *

As Peter stowed the laptop in his car and prepared to leave, he noticed a coffee shop just up the street. Changing his mind, he left the car where it was, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the coffee place.