He’s intentionally hiding his face from her. He must know how nosy she is.
“And you’re sure he’s going inside my apartment?”
She sighs, rolling her eyes, her annoyance very clear on her aged face. “Arabelle, I watch that man every time he comes here. He unlocks the door with his key and walks right inside.”
I don’t correct her about him having a key. Nobody has a key but me.
“And today was the last day that you saw him?”
“Yes, Arabelle. He left a few minutes before you came home today. Is that all?” she asks with a sigh. “It’s almost time for my shows to come on, and I don’t want to miss them.”
Thank God he left before I got here.
“Yes, that’s all. Thank you again, Mrs. O’Donnell.”
She says nothing else and closes the door in my face. I walk back across the hall to my apartment and immediately call the front desk. All visitors are required to sign in with the front desk attendants. It’s why I picked this place. There are security protocols, along with a doorman, which right now are shit.
“Front desk, this is Nathan speaking.”
“Yes, Nathan. This is Arabelle Williamson in apartment 432. Have I had any guests sign in today?”
“Give me one second, Ms. Williamson, to check.”
I can’t believe someone has been inside my apartment.
“Our records show no one has signed in. Is there a problem?”
“Yes.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “I believe someone’s been in my apartment.”
Silence filters through the line for a few minutes.
“Have you given a key to anyone, Ms. Williamson?” he asks. “You know it’s against complex policy for someone not on the lease to have keys to any of the apartments. That can be a reason for us to end your lease.”
“I’m well aware of the policy, Nathan. That’s why I haven’t given anyone any keys.”
“According to our records, we’ve also received a complaint from Mrs. O’Donnell, your neighbor, that you’ve had an unauthorized visitor who has a set of keys.”
“Well, Mrs. O’Donnell is old, and she has no idea what she’s talking about. No one has keys to my apartment but me. Has maintenance been scheduled to do any work?”
“No, ma’am. Not that I can see.”
“Okay.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I know it sounds crazy, but is there any way I can get my locks changed today?”
“I can put in the order today for maintenance to change the locks. But it will take twenty-four to forty-eight hours for the work to be done, and you will be billed for the lock changes.”
“The cost isn’t an issue.”
“Okay, then I will put in the order. The new keys will be up here at the desk for you to pick up when available.”
“That’s perfect.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Nathan.”
I finish the call and make my way to my bedroom to put on clothes. What do I need to do from here? If I call the cops, they’ll think I’m crazy. Someone has entered my apartment,and according to Mrs. O’Donnell, it has happened on multiple occasions.
“There’s no way I can stay here until the locks are changed. I need to find somewhere else to stay.”
“Breaking News…”
As I search for my clothes in the dresser, my gaze shifts to the television on the bedroom wall. There’s a reporter standing in front of the Peninsula Chicago, the hotel where I met Pierre.
