“I know the place,” Rachel said, turning down my street.

“The Grand Regency downtown.”

“He stayed there three times last fall.”

“We just need to get the records,” I said.

“And the security footage from the lobby.”

“I have a friend who works front desk security there,” Rachel said.

“She might be able to help us get a look at the logs.”

“We need to be careful,” I said. “If Scott suspects anything, he’ll block my access.”

“He won’t suspect a thing,” Rachel said. “He thinks you’re crying in a dark room.”

We pulled up to the curb outside my apartment complex.

The streetlights cast a yellow, watery glow on the wet pavement.

I gripped my purse tight.

“I’ll call you as soon as I see any activity on the accounts,” I said.

“Keep your head up, Avery,” Rachel said, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

I got out of the car and walked up the concrete steps to my front door.

The apartment was dark and quiet, smelling of old pine and dust.

I turned on the kitchen light and sat down at the island.