“Thorn? As in Riley Thorn the psychic?” the neighbor took the glasses off his head and put them on.
“Do I know you?” Riley asked, trying to peek around Nick.
“I’m Bob. I go to slam poetry with Fred Bogdanovich. I follow all your shenanigans on the news. Are you here to catch another bad guy?”
“We’re trying to,” she said.
“You’re not gonna blow up the building, are you?” he asked.
“We’re definitely going to try to avoid that,” Nick said dryly.
“In that case, you can use my spare key. But be careful. That Kellen’s got a pretty lady in there, and he’s a damn good shot.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Nick said.
Bob shuffled back into his apartment and returned with a key. “I’ll just wait out here and watch the show, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine by me,” Nick muttered as he crossed to Kellen’s door. “You two stay here,” he told Riley and Burt.
“Be careful,” Riley urged.
He took a quick deep breath and turned the key in the lock.
Nick went in low and counted his lucky stars that he did because the coffee mug Kellen hurled at him flew over his head and hit the wall in the hallway.
“It’s me. Don’t fucking shoot!” Nick shouted.
“What the hell are you doing breaking in?” Kellen yelled back.
The lights came on, and Nick ran past him, taking a split second to note that his friend was wearing nothing but black briefs. “He’s in the bedroom! Is that what you sleep in?”
“Who?” Kellen demanded, running after him.
“The guy!” Nick snapped as he raced down the hall.
“What guy?”
He heard it then. Sounds of a scuffle.
Nick didn’t stop to think—he did what came naturally. He rammed the door with his shoulder and fell with it as it came off the hinges.
It was dark, but he could just make out a shadowy figure standing at the foot of the bed.
“I can explain everything,” the man said.
But Nick wasn’t in the mood for story time. He went airborne and hit the man in the midsection. He didn’t realize until they hit the floor that the intruder was naked.
An ear-piercing scream came from the bed, and Burt howled his response from the hall.
“Ow, that hurt!” wheezed the naked suspect.
“On the floor! Hands behind your head,” Kellen barked.
“I’m already on the floor, and I can’t move my hands. Someone’s sitting on me,” the man complained.
The lights came on, and Sesame let out another piercing scream.
“Do you need back up, Detective?” Bob yelled from the hallway.
