With anothercontented sigh, Melissa reached the door on the third floor and politelyextended her hand, tapping on the frame. A few moments passed.
No answer.
She continued tosmile, still listening to the bells and then glancing back out the window. Shecould just see the low-peaked steeple of Sainte-Chapelle spiraling against thehorizon.
“Amanda,” shecalled out, her voice pleasant.
She rememberedthe first time she’d come to Paris. It had all seemed overwhelming. Seven yearsago, an expat from America, resituating in a new country, a new culture. Knockson the door had been a welcome distraction at that time. Melissa knew many ofher friends in the expat community had a difficult time adjusting to the city.It wasn’t always as friendly at first blush, especially not for Americans, orfor college-age kids. She remembered her time on an American campus for thefirst two years. It was as if everyone had wanted to be her friend. In France,people were a bit more reserved. Which, of course, was why she helped organizethe group.
Melissa smiledagain and tapped on the door once more. “Amanda,” she repeated.
Again, there wasno response. She hesitated, glancing up and down the hall. She reached into herpocket and fished out her phone. Smartphones were all well and good, but Melissapreferred a bit of an older style. She scanned the old flip phone and noted thetime on the front screen. 2:02. She scrolled through the text messages andscanned Amanda’s last text.
“I’d be happy tomeet you later today. Say, 2pm? Looking forward to the group. It’s been hardmaking friends in the city.”
Melissa’s smilefaltered a bit. She remembered meeting Amanda—a chance encounter in asupermarket. They’d hit it off immediately. The bells seemed to fade in thedistance now. On a whim, she reached out and felt for the door handle. Shetwisted and found that it turned. A click, and the door shifted open just acrack.
Melissa stared.
She would haveto make sure Amanda knew about the dangers of leaving her door unlocked downtown.Even in a city like Paris, caution preceded safety. Melissa hesitated for amoment, caught in a crisis of conscience, but then, at last, she eased the dooropen completely with a gentle prod of her forefinger.
“Hello,” shecalled into the dark apartment. Perhaps Amanda was out shopping. Maybe she’dforgotten the appointment. “Hello, Amanda? It’s me, Melissa from the forum…”
No answer.
Melissa didn’tconsider herself a particularly nosy sort. But when it came to Americans inParis, she had a sense of kinship. Almost like they belonged to the samefamily. It didn’t feel so much like intruding as checking in on a littlesister. She nodded to herself, justifying the decision in her mind before shestepped into the apartment of a woman she’d only met once before.
The door creakedagain as her elbow brushed against the frame, causing it to shift open evenmore. She hesitated and thought she heard voices from down the hall. She poppedher head back out and looked up the hallway toward the edge of the stairs.
A young couplemoved along the banister, noted her, and instead of nodding or waving,continued on their merry way. Melissa sighed and moved back into the apartment—andthen froze. The fridge was open. A strange slant of yellow light extended fromthe compartment across the kitchen floor.
Amanda wasthere. Sitting on the floor, facing the opposite wall. Her back was halfagainst the cabinet, one shoulder blade pressed against the wood, the otherextending past, her left arm resting on the floor.
“Did you spillsomething?” Melissa asked, stepping even further into the darkened room.
Wine puddled onthe ground beneath Amanda’s left arm. Melissa took another few steps and turnedto face Amanda, still smiling.
Her smile froze.Amanda’s dead eyes stared up at her, gaping over a thick slit in her neck. Coldblood stained the front of her shirt, spilling down to the floor where it hadthickened against the linoleum.
Melissa didn’tscream, nor did she shout. She merely gasped, her fingers trembling as shestruggled to fish out her inhaler. She stumbled toward the door, grabbing herinhaler with one hand and snagging her phone with the other.
After a fewpuffs of air, she loosed a gurgled groan and, with trembling fingers on herflip phone buttons, she tapped 1-7 for the police.
Still gasping,back against the wall outside the open door to the apartment, she swallowed andwaited for the operator to pick up. Behind her, she thought she could hear thevague, fading sound of liquid dripping against the floor.
Only then didshe scream.
CHAPTER FOUR
Adele checkedher smart watch, cycling through the different screens that kept an eye on herheart rate, movement, music… She inhaled through her nose where she stood inthe doorway of her apartment and glanced up at the clock. Four AM exactly.Plenty of time to get in a two-hour run before work. She adjusted the sweatbandholding back her hair and glanced over her shoulder toward the sink.
She had left herplastic Mickey Mouse bowl sitting on the metal partition between the sink andthe counter. Normally, Adele cleaned up the moment she made a mess. But today,in the small, quiet apartment…
“It can wait,”she said to no one in particular. Which, of course, was part of the problem.
Last night hadbeen one of fitful rest, sleep eluding her. Adele stood in the doorway as thedigital watch ticked to 4:01. She glanced back at the sink, then mutteredbeneath her breath and reluctantly strode into the kitchen, grabbed her plasticbowl, and turned on the water with an irritated snap of her wrist. She rinsedout the milky residue in the bottom, placed the bowl in the dryer rack, andheaded back toward the door.
Before she couldturn the doorknob, though, a quiet chirping sound caught her attention. Adele’seyes darted to the kitchen table. Her phone was vibrating.
She frowned. Theonly people who would call her this early were her father in Germany, or work.
And she had justspoken to her father a couple of days ago. It was little surprise, then, whenshe glanced down at the glowing blue green screen depicting a single word inwhite letters.
Office.
She picked upher phone as the buzzing noise faded. Adele read three simple words in blacktext flashing across her screen. Urgent. Come in.
Adele removedher sweatband and hurried
