Page 40 of The Girl Who Was Taken

“I’ve got a master to all the units. It’s in the rental agreement that I can enter any apartment so long as I identify myself and give a reasonable lead time.”

Livia nodded as she thought.

“Cops asked me about this stuff earlier this morning.”

“Of course,” Livia said. “You did the right thing. I’m curious for a different reason.” Livia pointed to the parking lot, where Sanj and Kent were finished with the police and climbing into the van. “That’s my ride. Sorry about Tony.”

“Yeah,” the landlord said. “You sure that smell goes away?”

“Give it a day or two,” Livia said as she walked down the stairs.

* * *

They gathered two bodies on the first day of ride-alongs, and arrived back at the morgue just as another crew of investigators went out on an evening call. It was four p.m. Calls that came in this late in the day were dished off to the night-crew investigators. Livia thanked Sanj and Kent for their hospitality before she left, promising to see them in the morning. In her car, she plugged an address into her GPS. Anthony Davis’s case and her discussion with the landlord had got her thinking. During the forty-minute ride back to the morgue, with the body lying behind her, she used her phone to get the information she needed. Casey Delevan had been reported missing not by friends or family, but by his landlord, much like Anthony Davis.

Livia jumped onto the highway and headed west toward Emerson Bay. When she took the off-ramp in West Bay ninety minutes later, the GPS spit out directions until Livia was in front of Casey Delevan’s former residence, a long single-story building shaped in a blocked U that held eighteen units. She found the number to the management and dialed.

“Old Town Apartments,” the voice said.

“This is Dr. Cutty from the medical examiner’s office. We talked earlier.”

“You here already?”

“I’m parked out front.”

“I’ll be right out.”

A minute later, Livia saw the front door to the office open and a balding man walk out onto the patio. She stood from her car and approached him with a smile and an extended hand.

“Livia Cutty.”

He took her hand. “Art Munson.”

“You own the apartments?”

“The whole building. I’m only seventy percent full. You’re not looking for a place to stay, are you, Dr. Cutty?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Didn’t figure a doctor would want one of my little units. So which tenant are you interested in?”

“An old one named Casey Delevan.”

“Guy they just pulled out of the bay?”

Livia nodded. “That’s him. You’re listed as the person who reported him missing, is that correct?”

“I called the cops, if that’s what you’re asking. Didn’t know I was listed as anything.”

“Why’d you call the cops?”

“He used to pay his rent three months at a time. I require it of some of my clients, especially the ones with bad or no credit. This prevents them from leaving me high and dry. He paid three months, missed his next installment. I sent two notices with no replies. So I went to check on things when he wouldn’t answer his phone. Lot of these guys, they don’t pick up the phone when I call. They forget I know where they live. Cameby a couple of times, he never answered the door. Finally had to use my key to enter the unit. Knew right away he was gone.”

“Why was that?”

“Place was dusty as hell. Rotten food in the fridge. Nobody had stepped foot in there for some time. I get it from time to time with this clientele. Something comes up and they split in a hurry. So, when I knew he was gone, I called the cops.”

“When was that?”

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