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SLOANE PEARSON DOUBLE-PARKS THE unmarked on Damen Avenue, buttons up her slicker, and skips between fat drops to the three-flat’s doorstep. Plastic flags on the OPEN HOUSE sign spring yellow and wild against the gloom. She rings the buzzer but doesn’t wait to go inside.
She counts each step up the long, straight flight. Fifteen to the first landing: three more than the stairs at Eddie’s, though these aren’t as steep. She’s winded when she reaches the top floor, more so when she sees Scott Zwick leaning against the penthouse doorframe, casual, like they’ve already met.
"Hi. Miss Pearson? Thanks for coming." Zwick offers his hand, a shake she can find little agenda behind, even though she knows that’s the point.
"I was in the neighborhood," she says, playing it just as cool. She leaves out the part about being in the neighborhood because a concerned parent reported a registered sex offender parked outside Peabody Elementary.
Zwick wipes his feet on the welcome mat and she follows suit, her heavy black boots making her feel bigger than she is; clunky. Especially compare ... read full excerpt from Last Known Address ebook
