Duke shiftedhis stance to block the doorway, his instincts immediately going on alert.
“Pam, Andi—stay out here,” he said. “If anything feels off, shout. Otherwise, don’t come in until I say so.”
He hated saying it that way—like an order—but hesitation got people hurt. Especially the people you cared about most.
Pam nodded quickly, the color draining from her face. Andi hesitated a fraction of a second—just long enough for Duke to catch the tension pulling tight across her shoulders—then stepped farther into the hallway. She trusted him. That trust settled heavy in his chest, right alongside the fear of failing it.
Duke waited a beat, listening. Nothing. No movement. No telltale shift of air.
He nudged the apartment door open with the edge of his boot.
The first thing that struck him was how . . . normal the place looked.
No overturned furniture. No broken glass. No obvious signs of a struggle.
Which meant one thing.
If something had happened here, whoever had done it knew exactly how to move through a space without leaving a trace. And that, more than chaos ever could, put Duke on edge.
The faint scent of orange cleaner hung in the air. Morning light filtered in through the living room window, diffused by thin curtains patterned with pale gray leaves.
Duke paused, letting his eyes adjust, his instincts settle. He methodically cataloged the space.
Living room: sage-green sofa, beige throw blanket folded neatly over the arm. Coffee table clear except for a coaster and a single hardcover book lying squarely by the edge. No clutter. No chaos.
Kitchen: spotless. Sink empty. A dish towel hung evenly over the oven handle, its stripes aligned.
Gina’s bedroom: bed made tight, hospital corners sharp enough to bounce a coin. Shoes lined beneath the dresser. Closet door closed.
Bathroom: towels folded. Toiletries arranged by size. Toothpaste rolled from the bottom.
Nothing screamed intrusion.
But the important thing right now was that the apartment was clear so Andi and Pam could come inside.
The sooner they were within eyesight of him, the better he’d feel.
He’d had too many near-death experiences with Andi to ever fully relax. Vigilance wasn’t a habit anymore—it was the price of loving her.
Andi’s gaze lingered on the apartment door as she waited for Duke to emerge. “Pam, about the door being unlatched. Are you sure you locked it?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” Pam quickly shook her head. “IthoughtI locked it. I’m usually very careful. But maybe—maybe Emily has been here since I was here last. Maybe she didn’t latch it properly.”
“She’s Gina’s roommate, right?” Andi asked.
“Yes, she’s been staying with someone else after the break-in. Said she couldn’t sleep here—couldn’t even walk down the hall without panicking.”
“I don’t blame her,” Andi said. “We’d like to talk to her.”
Pam nodded quickly. “Yes. Of course. I’ll get you her number.”
The door opened, and Duke stood there.
Andi held her breath as she waited to hear what he had to say.
“It’s clear.” Duke nodded behind him. “You’re safe to come in.”
Pam sagged with relief, pressing a hand to her chest. “Thank you.”
