Clara (Thirteen of Twenty)

Problem was, that super wasn't gonna buy us needing back into her apartment a second time. He gets a funny feeling, calls the cops, everything goes dumb. No fire escape, so we couldn't get in that way, and I wasn't about to go rope climbing. Too old for that. Never knew how to pick locks. I just kicked in those doors if I wanted in.

Our best bet was Vera. When Dara called her, she sounded like was she was gonna pop from the stress. We told her we needed back in. Dara said she needed to pretend she mighta left a book in Clara's apartment, just needed to take a quick look. I told her to look through the apartment for anything out of the ordinary.

When Vera called back half an hour later, she told us Clara's bedsheet was gone, and her running shoes were also gone. The piles of books she hadn't touched all semester, some of them got moved, and it looked like the coffee table got moved over also. Seemed like there mighta been a struggle, which meant probably noise, which meant someone mighta heard something. We already talked to all her neighbors before, except the apartment across from her. Worth a shot.

It was late afternoon when we knocked on that apartment door. Slob in a ragged t-shirt and boxers came to the door, yawned. We made nice, then Dara told him there were noise complaints and we were asking around.

He stretched his arms up. His shirt pulled up over his hairy Santa Claus gut. Dara cringed. Slob said a few nights ago, he heard a ton of knocking and going on across the way. She was always having guys over and being real loud. When he checked, it was 2 guys that night, one right after the other. Slob got a weird sneer on his face, wondered if she was an escort.

Before I could say anything, Dara said that was it exactly, asked if he could describe the guys.

Slob said the first looked like a real hipster, whatever that was. I asked him for details, and he said thick glasses, tight jeans, real skinny. I nodded my head. The male dame I talked to.

Other guy, real different, which is what made him think she was an escort. Big hulk of a guy, didn't swing his arms when he walked. Horizontal scar across the back of his bald head. Giant pinky ring on his left hand, green stone. Old leather bomber jacket, worn and cracked and pale brown. Thick heeled boots.

We thanked him and left. Didn't know who he was, but we were gonna find Head Scar.