Viktor slowly turned the wheel and then backed up. The headlights sprayed the brick wall and revolving door. Wyatt spotted the metal shutter behind it.
“Blast!” He flew back in his seat. “Pull over for a minute. I have an idea.”
“What is your plan?”
Wyatt raked back his hair. “They don’t usually hook up sensors to windows on the upper floors. I doubt they even have an alarm system with all the illegal activity going on inside.”
“And if they do?”
Wyatt looked at the open bag of weapons in the back. He didn’t like carrying weapons. The dead could be spiteful, and the last thing a Gravewalker wanted to do was kill someone. Wyatt had enough issues with random specters, but he sure as hellfire didn’t need a freshy with a grudge following him around for the rest of his mortal life. If they had money hidden somewhere, they might cut a deal with another Gravewalker and put a hit on him.
“I’ll worry about that later.” Wyatt pressed his nose to the glass and studied the taller building next door. They were crammed together like sardines. That was how city architects used to construct them in the old days. As he studied the windows, he realized it was an apartment building. A brunette woman with a messy bun on her head waddled down the steps and waited by a tree while her little white dog sniffed at a patch of grass.
Wyatt opened the door and looked back at Viktor. “Take your time following me. Act cool. I’ve got a plan.”
Hopping out of the vehicle, Wyatt reached deep down for that boyish charm that the ladies liked. After putting on his backpack, he stuffed the ski mask into his back pocket and rushed across the street. “Hurry up, Dad! We’re gonna be late for your party.” He smiled at the lady, who looked embarrassed when he glanced at her blue pajama bottoms covered in white crescent moons. But then she noticed his Pac-Man shirt, and Wyatt had found that people were put at ease by the simplest things.
He bent down and gave her little dog a scratch behind the ear. “My dad’s finally retiring from the force. Thirty years.”
“Congratulations to him.”
It was the best lie Wyatt could come up with considering Viktor was crossing the street with a gun on his hip. “SWAT team commander. His buddies are taking him out for drinks after the formal ceremony. I’ve got to get him in a suit and make sure he looks decent.”
She chuckled and gave Viktor a passing glance. “Isn’t that your mom’s job?”
“She died five years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Wyatt stood and scratched behind his own ear. “It hasn’t been easy, and he turned into a workaholic. Most nights he doesn’t even go home, and when he does, it’s after midnight. Sorry—I talk a lot.”
“No, that’s okay.”
Viktor stepped over the curb and kept a straight face. He knew better than to speak and give away his accent until he could assess the situation.
“Come on. We have to hurry.” Wyatt tugged at Viktor’s sleeve and led them up the steps. “Nice meeting you!” he said over his shoulder.
“Have fun,” she replied cordially.
When they reached the door, Wyatt frowned at the key swipe. A lot of apartment buildings these days had access-control cards. He tested the door and glanced at the card swipe again.
“Search your pockets,” he murmured. Then louder, he said, “Where’s your key? Don’t tell me you left it at work. I thought you cleaned out your desk? You can’t go in your work clothes. I bought you that suit and everything.” Wyatt sighed dramatically and stepped down, gazing across the street and pretending not to notice the woman’s curiosity. “We’ll miss the ceremony if we go back.”
“This outfit is fine,” Viktor said in his best American accent.
“You look like you’re going on a drug bust. It’s not fine. They’re taking your picture and everything. Don’t you have a spare key somewhere?”
His friend in blue pajama bottoms led her dog toward the steps. “I can let you in.”
“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver. Thank yousomuch,” Wyatt went on. “I think he’s just looking for an excuse not to go. He doesn’t like attention, so this is his version of a nightmare.”
Viktor grumbled and folded his arms, which made the lady giggle.
She opened the door and held it for Wyatt. “I don’t like parties, so I know how he feels.” When Viktor glided past her, she smiled at him. “Congratulations. Thanks for your service.”
Viktor’s expression softened, and he nodded at her. Viktor had a remarkable way of carrying on a conversation without saying a word. Wyatt had a way of sticking his foot in his mouth, so his best bet was to avoid getting in the elevator with this woman or else she’d start asking questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
“Wait, do you have your door key?” he asked Viktor. “I’m not about to go all the way up there if you left your keys in the van.”
