“Oh, you’re themanager?“ I asked. “You’ve never mentioned that before. How about you hand over those fucking keys?”
He took a backward step as if I’d just punched him, but the extra space was all he needed to collect himself.
“No wonder Miss Wentworth had to pay your rent,” he said with a forced laugh. “You can’t control your words, let alone your finances. You’re a Neanderthal.”
Shock rippled through me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d landed a jab for the first time. Sadiehad paid my rent without telling me? Or, more to the point, withoutaskingme?
“The keys, Dustin.” I held out my hand, desperate to get to her. “Give them to me now, or I’ll come back later—and I won’t be so nice about it the next time.”
He dropped them into his pocket rather than my palm, his eyes darting around as if searching for an ally.
Before I could make a move toward him, he turned and rushed down the stairs.
“Forget about him and hisbakwaas.” Varesh repositioned his glasses and watched Kerger go. “We don’t have time for him right now.”
“You’re right,” I said. “The weasel can wait.”
We ran down the last two flights and landed in the foyer, striding across patterned tiles to the rear exit.
Dustin had scurried back to his apartment and slammed the door, the lock clicking in place as we passed by.
“What’sbakwaas?” I asked.
“The only thing that comes out of his mouth—nonsense.” Varesh shoved the glass door open, and I followed him outside to the tenants’ car park. “What did he mean about Sadie paying your rent? Was that fact, or just more of his rubbish?”
“Fact. Don’t ask me why. I know as much as you do.” And I still hadn’t figured out why the information vaguely pissed me off.
The temperature had plummeted during the short time we’d been inside, and dark, heavy clouds were about to crack. I dug my keys from my pocket and made a beeline for my silver Ranger, conscious of the time we’d wasted.
The two of us jumped in, and I pulled out onto Sanderson Street. “Better check if the medical centre’s operating on the way past.”
It didn’t take long to confirm we were on our own. No A-frame sign out front, and it no longer seemed feasible we’d see it again.
“The more I think about it, the more confident I am we can handle this,” Varesh said, staring out the passenger window. “Tim’s a lunatic at the best of times with texting, but he wouldn’t be so vague if something serious had happened.”
“I hope you’re right.” I focused on my surroundings and tried not to worry about Sadie. The first drops of rain fell, and I flicked on the intermittent wipers, smearing tracks of dust across the windshield. “What do you think Kerger was hiding in his pocket?” I asked, spraying a couple of bursts of water to clear the mess.
Varesh kept his eyes on the street, checking both sides. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “The only thing I’m sure of is that it doesn’t belong to him.”
Knowing he’d been creeping around and touching Jeanette and Clive’s things rubbed me the wrong way, even if they were never coming back to claim them.
“He’s changed since we’ve been in lockdown,” Varesh went on. “If we're stuck together much longer, that man's going to turn dangerous.”
A statement, not a question. I blew out a sigh. “I’ve been thinking that for a while, but it’s worse when someone else says it out loud.”
He gave me a dose of side eye. “We need those master keys.”
“I’ll get onto it when Sadie and Tim are back home.” It wouldn’t fix the issue, but it would at least help the women feel safer in their homes.
“What’s next?” Varesh asked. “After we have the keys. Going by the look on your face, you’ve got some ideas.”
“I’ve got plenty of ideas, but none of them are legal.” Society wasn’t far gone enough for us to take matters into our own hands, and so far, all Dustin had done was use words. He hadn't put his hands on anyone. “Between you and me, I’m trying tofigure out how much I can get away with—and how long I need to wait.”
He nodded his understanding and stared off into the distance. “While the virus has everyone’s attention, I think you could get away with anything you can personally and morally handle.”
He went quiet as I took the next turn. We passed a woman on the footpath who stopped and lowered her mask, doubling over in a coughing fit. My fingers flexed on the wheel, and I almost lifted the mask resting under my chin in reflex.
“Just so we’re on the same page,” he said, “are we both referring to permanent solutions?”
