“Well, yeah, like... duh,” Katrina replies with a fake bimbo accent that has me in stitches. “Point taken, compliment accepted, and thank you. But we're being pros right now, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, following her. Katrina's dressed in her work clothes too, the same pants she wore yesterday along with her long sleeve crop top, baseball hat and sunglasses, although the light training shoes have been replaced with lightweight mid top boots. She's ready to kick some ass if need be, and I wonder if somewhere in those baggy pants is her Glock. I mean, we flew, but still, who knows what tricks she’s learned.
We get to the apartment complex, the Palm Garden Apartments, which is a five-story stucco building with what looks like maybe some sort of green area and a pool in the middle. “Well?”
“According to the address, the apartment's most likely on the third floor,” Katrina says, taking out our new binoculars and giving the building a quick scan. “Let's walk around, see if we can spot anything.”
We can't get to one side since there's another apartment in the way, but we do find a way to circle around, and I see a problem. While the building has only one main entrance/exit, a security gate that connects to the parking lot and the walkway to the sidewalk, the apartments wrap all the way around. “There's no way to watch all four sides at once.”
“Then we focus on the entrance-exit,” Katrina says. She looks around, and points. “There, that looks decent enough.”
The 'decent enough' spot Katrina points out is a little bookstore with a coffee bar in front, sort of a Barnes and Noble clone, and we settle in. I'm glad for the shade and air conditioning, and the shop owner seems happy enough when I go over and slip her fifty bucks, as well as ordering some tea and scones. I'm not really hungry, but we are using the shop's seats, after all, and I don't plan on buying any books.
We keep watch together for about an hour before Katrina taps my arm. “Hey, instead of both of us, let's take thirty-minute shifts.”
“I'm not confident enough to identify your parents if they walk by, especially your mom,” I admit sheepishly. I don't like admitting I'm not Superman. “I mean, I'll help when I can, but I might be calling for your help.”
Katrina considers it, then grabs the binoculars. “Wait... there he is!”
I look across the street and see a man, roughly fifty or so with a rather large, angry pink bald patch on his head, just about Katrina's height, with a bit of a potbelly and a slouch coming down the street, wearing jeans and what looks like a bowling league shirt heading toward the security gate. “You sure?”
“He's got the same birthmark on the left side of his neck that my Dad had. He's gained weight, gone to seed a lot, but it's him.”
“Great, so how do we get in?” I ask, stopping when the shop owner brings us more tea and scones. I guess she thought that my fifty was asking for repeat service, not that I mind too much. “I doubt he'll just answer if we buzz that we're UPS or something.”
“Actually, that's pretty close to what I was thinking,” Katrina says, sipping her tea. “What do you think?”
I take a sip of my tea and grimace. “I think I've picked up Nathan's tea snobbery. This stuff is terrible.”
Katrina chuckles and downs her tea quickly. “Come on, we can take the scone with us in your backpack.”
We cross the street, and Katrina studies the security gate. “Hey, we won't have to do anything. It's not buzzered or anything,” she says, and I see she's right. There's a simple latch, but that's it. I guess it's not the sort of apartment to have all that much security. “Cheaper place than I thought. Come on.”
We go inside, stopping at the mailboxes, where we see that apartment 302 is listed as 'Ball'.
“You ready?” I ask Katrina, who looks suddenly nervous. “What is it?”
“I... I don't know,” she says, looking over at the stairs. “I mean, it's been ten years. And while I know there's a lot of things to not be happy about... it's my parents, Jackson. What if, what if there's a reason they did what they did? What if I can't do it? What if...”
I pull Katrina close and hug her tightly, cutting off her self-doubt. “You'll do the right thing. I know this much about you, Katrina. Live in the moment, and don't let your self-doubt stop you.”
She stiffens for a moment, then hugs me back. It feels amazing, and it feels even better when she sets her head on my chest. “This is why I'm glad you're here, Jackson. Thank you.”
“It's no problem,” I reply, my nose filling with the scent of her hair and stirring emotions deep inside me. “I'll be right by your side the whole time.”
Katrina squeezes me tightly and lets go, stepping back. “Okay. Then let's go see what's going on with my parents.”
Chapter 19
Kat