Standing in front of the professor’s apartment, Ellie inspected the door, taped top and bottom with some kind of plastic coating. Then she put her ear to the panel.
“Exactly what are we listening for?” asked Rudy.
Jumping back, she gasped. “I’m trying to find out if that detective is still inside, so be quiet.”
“Then step aside and allow me,” the yorkiepoo ordered, a smirk gracing his canine lips.
She opened and closed her mouth.
“Superior hearing, remember?” Cocking his head, he perked his ears. A full thirty seconds passed before he said, “The place is empty. Want me to scratch off the tape so we can go inside?”
“Are you crazy?” She dragged trembling fingers through her hair. “If anyone caught us, I’d be arrested for sure. Then where would we be?”
“Don’t know about you, but I’d be home sitting on a nice cozy sofa, sound asleep.”
“That’s what you think. They’d probably put you back in the big house. Want to do time there again?”
Rudy shuddered.
“Okay, okay. But if we’re not going inside, why are we here?”
She raised a shoulder in an I-don’t-know gesture. “I just thought that maybe the police had overlooked something in their investigation. Or maybe someone with a key, say Eugene, had found Buddy, and brought him back.”
“Not in this lifetime,” Rudy said. “The jerk doesn’t have enough heart.”
Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Ellie gave the matter serious consideration. Then she decided to check the tape more thoroughly. Maybe a corner had come loose and needed to be smoothed back in place. Getting an adhesive coating to stick could be tricky, especially if someone scraped it with a foot —she ran the tip of her sneaker across the tape – or there was an inordinate amount of humidity in the air. Taking a bottle of water from her bag, she drizzled a little on the bottom of the door. Who knew what might cause the tape to come off?
Rudy growled low in his throat, and she ignored him. After a third rub with the tip of her shoe, she poured more water on the tape.
A deeper growl made her tsk. “For God’s sake be quiet. Can’t you see I’m busy here.”
“Um, Ellie—”
“Hush up and keep your comments to yourself.” She bent at the waist and ran her fingers across the covering, noting it hadn’t budged. Maybe a penknife would be sharp enough to break the seal. Before she came to a conclusion, the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. Peering between her ankles, she spied a pair of men’s dress shoes, large but not overly so, and worn but nicely shined.
The man cleared his throat and visions of her sitting in a dank, musty cell somewhere in the Big Apple danced in her brain. Swallowing, she rose slowly and rested her forehead on the door.
