this place, and saw pity in them for the people who lived here.
He took my hand. Warm and dry, his hand completely enveloped mine. I instantly felt better.
“Let’s see if we can find the manager,” he said.
I nodded my agreement. As we continued down the hallway I had the sense of being in a fun house or a Tim Burton film. Declan paused in front of a door. MANAGER was written in black Magic Marker on a piece of cardboard and taped slightly above my eye level. As if of its own volition, my fist rose and knocked on the hollow wood below the sign.
We waited. No sound came from inside.
“He’s not in. Don’t know when he’ll be back, neither.” A stooped black man with a puff of bone white hair stood in the doorway across the hall.
“The manager?”
His confirming nod was elaborate, slightly sarcastic. “Yes, the manager. Who else’s gonna put a sign on their door that says
Manager
?”
“What’s his name?” Declan asked.
“Ridge is his name. Ethan Ridge. He’s probably off seein’ his parole officer.”
My ears perked up. “Is that so?”
“Oh, he’s all right. Just got himself in some trouble back a ways, is all. We got a couple openings here if you’re looking for a place, I can tell you that, but I can’t show you none of them.”
I tried to nonchalantly see into the apartment behind our font of knowledge. Unfortunately, nonchalance was not my strong suit. He noticed.
So I stuck out my hand. “I’m Katie Lightfoot.”
He took it. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Katie Lightfoot. And is this Mr. Lightfoot?”
I blushed so hard my follicles tingled. What was wrong with me? It was an innocent assumption.
“Oh! Lookie there. She’s turning the same color as her hair, almost!” He grinned at Declan. “You two living in sin, then? That it? Well, that’s no never mind to me. Can’t judge. I let folks be. My name’s James Sparr.”
“Nice to meet you, James. We’ll come back later. Thank you.” I turned and strode outside, determined to shake off my embarrassment.
By the time Declan opened the passenger door for me I was thinking about Albert Hill again. Had he stopped by to see Ethan Ridge and left in a huff because the manager wasn’t there?
Or had something else deepened Albert’s bad mood?
Chapter 10
Declan and I wrangled the sofa through the front door and set it against the wall opposite the entry. The contrast of dark purple against the peach walls translated to a kind of cheerful elegance. And the old trunk would make a perfect coffee table.
He folded his arms and gave one decisive nod. “Looks good.” His gaze took in the rest of the living room: plank floors, built-in bookcases, the hall leading down to my bedroom, the stairs to the open loft above, French doors that opened to the backyard. “This is a great little place.”
“As soon as I saw it I knew it was right for me.” I opened the back door.
Mungo barreled in and right up to Declan. He stooped and picked up the dog. “Who’s this?” Mungo wiggled and licked his chin.
“That’s Mungo the Magnificent.”
Declan laughed. “He is magnificent. Did you bring him from Akron?”
“Nope. He showed up when I arrived. My neighbor says he doesn’t belong to anyone around here.”
“It’s nice that you took him in.”
“Oh, I don’t know …” I trailed off.
Those blue eyes met mine. “No tags? Have you checked the paper for lost dogs? Or taken him to check for a microchip?”
Silent, I shook my head. I should have done all those things, but I realized I didn’t really want to discover that the terrier had another owner. No matter what I’d been telling myself, I wanted to keep him.
He handed Mungo to me, and the little guy immediately snuggled up under my chin. I could feel his heart beating against my chest.
“Maybe I’ll take him to the vet tomorrow and have him scanned.”
Declan grinned. “Sure you will.” He peered out the open door. “Mind if I check out your yard?”
“Of
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