Chapter 4

Cinda's apartment complex was inside a fence, but the gate was open when we got there, and she told me that it usually stood open until 10 at night. Sometimes they'd close it during the day – most often on weekends – but usually not. The fence might as well not have been there with the gate standing open most of the time – but I didn't say anything, just filed the fact away. Her apartment had just one door, which meant that there was just one easy way out if she needed to run, but also meant there was just one easy way for someone to get in at her. There are pros and cons to everything. I went around to all the windows, and found they locked securely. That was good, since a window that you can open from the outside isn't much protection. Of course if someone really wanted to come in through a window he could cut the screen or just tear it down, and break the glass, but most people aren't that determined.

Her door locked securely as well. In addition to the usual lock on the doorknob, which anyone with a drivers license can slip in a minute or two – if not less – there was a deadbolt. Those are harder to get past. You can pick the lock if you've got the tools and the knowledge, or you can kick the door, but the one takes time and the other makes noise. I looked at the door and the jamb. The door was solid enough but the jamb would likely splinter under a good kick. It's a good thing that most people think you break down a door with your shoulder, because they don't build houses and apartments to withstand the force of someone who knows how. The standard shoulder bit will just get you a sore shoulder, and even if you do get through the door that way it'll take a while.

The place was as secure as any apartment can be. There were things I could have recommended, but the idea was to keep Bestwick outside – in fact, the idea was to keep him away from the place. Cinda showed me a copy of the restraining order, and it prohibited her ex-husband from coming within 100 feet of her. That's 33 yards, a third of a football field – a fair distance. She pointed out to me some of the places she'd seen him lurking, and they were all much closer than that. I had her lock the door behind me, and went on a tour of the immediate area. Anyplace that was 100 feet or more from her apartment was out of sight; if she could see him, he was by definition in violation of the order. That was good to know.

When I got back to the apartment and she let me in, I brought up a delicate subject. "I'm gonna have someone here 24 hours a day, at least for a while, and they're gonna need the bathroom. It really wouldn't be a good idea for 'em to duck behind a bush – just our luck the cops would cruise by right then and your guard would get busted for public indecency." I grinned at her, and she smiled at the image. "You got any ideas?"

"I really can't have people going in and out of my apartment in the middle of the night."

"No, of course not. Do you think the management might let us use the bathroom in the office?"

"I don't know. I'll talk to them tomorrow and see. But what will you do in the meantime?"

"That's the 87 million dollar question." I've never claimed to be in step with everyone else. "If there's no other alternative we could find a handy bush. Or a wide-mouthed jug would work – it's not exactly pretty, but it works, at least for us men. For a time the Smith's or the Raley's down at Tramway, or the Taco Bell up there at Central, will be available, but not all night."

She caught her lower lip in her teeth. "I hadn't realized so much went into this."

I smiled. "No reason you should have. You know your job, not mine, just like I know my job but not yours."

"True ... I guess I'll really need to talk to the management tomorrow."

"That'll work. I'll need to contact 'em too, and let 'em know what I'm doing here. I'd hate to have someone call the cops on us as suspicious characters." I know several Albuquerque police officers – one is my best friend, in fact – but not all of them, and I really didn't want to have to take time to explain myself at two in the morning.

"Yes, that would be bad, I suppose." Cinda smiled. Already I could see that I was having an effect – when she'd called me over the day before she'd been pale and scared, and now she had some color in her face and was acting more like a normal person. "What are you going to do now?"