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Despite her initial refusal, she allows me to help her up the stairs to her apartment. When she gets to her door, she unlocks it and quickly slips inside before slamming the door in my face. I listen as she engages every lock she owns on her front door, shaking my head.
“You’re welcome,” I say under my breath before stalking away.
When I’m back in the safety of my car, I type her address into a note on my phone. Knowing her address is at least a start, as I can use that to try to find more information on her. We may not have gotten her name, but we at least know where we can find her. All isn’t lost yet.
Tristan is across the couch when I come in, beer in hand. He glares at me but doesn’t say anything, not that I need him to. I know he’s disappointed that we didn’t get the information we were hoping to get, but hopefully,myinformation can change his mood.
“I got her address,” I finally say, breaking the uneasy tension in the room. He doesn’t initially react, only taking another swig from the beer bottle instead.
“And how do you know it’s actually hers?”
“I gave her a ride home.” I sigh deeply. “At least it makes sense why she wanted to sell her virginity in the first place. The building is a fucking health hazard.”
I Airdrop the note file to him with her address and wait. He opens it, looks at it, and then cuts his eyes to me.
“You sure?” he asks.
I nod. “Positive. I even walked her to the door, and she unlocked it and went inside. It’s her place.”
Tristan taps around on his phone for a few moments, a call coming through on his speakerphone.
“What is it?” a rough voice answers after a few rings.
“Is this Cambridge Apartments?” Tristan asks.
“Yeah, you looking for a place to stay, kid?”
I quickly cross the living room and take Tristan’s phone and hold up a finger to him before he can bitch at me.
“We’re actually calling about a tenant that lives there,” I say.
The man scoffs. “Look, this is a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of place. I don’t have any information for ya,” he states.
“We just need a name for the tenant in apartment 307.”
“Unless you have a warrant, I can’t give you anything.”
“Unless you want me to call an inspector and have him come check out how many codes you’re violating, I’d advise you give me what I’m looking for,” I state firmly. “I was just there a few moments ago, and I know for a fact that your electric set up is a fire disaster waiting to happen. Do you want those problems?” Tristan smirks at me as the line goes quiet. “Hello?”
“Fine,” the man huffs. Papers shuffle in the background for a brief moment. “Her name is Mara Steele. Happy now?”
The smirk falls off of Tristan’s face, and my eyes widen. Mara Steele? As in…our deceased mother Mara Steele?
What the fuck is going on?
I hang up without another word to the man, unable to form words. “This is some kind of set up,” Tristan growls as he stands to his feet. “We still don’t know who this bitch is, and she’s living in an apartment in our mother’s name. Who the fuck does she think she is?”
“I don’t know, but we need to go find out,” I mumble. Whatever guilt I felt earlier is now long gone. I don’t know what kind of fraud this woman thinks she can commit in our mother’s name, but now I’m fully invested along with my brother to get to the bottom of who she is.
Tristan and I get back into the car and speed back to her apartment, finding our way to the leasing office. A heavy set, bald man with a stained tank top and dingy sweatpants sits behind a desk watching a tiny television with a grainy movie on.He looks up at us as he lazily dumps ashes from his cigarette into a red solo cup, half-filled with liquid.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
“Yeah, we just talked to you on the phone,” I start.
The man’s bored expression immediately turns into a scowl. “What the hell do you want now?” he fusses. “You come all the way here to threaten me with more inspections and shit, you little shits?”
Tristan pulls out a wad of cash and slaps it down on the counter. The man’s eyes grow as big as saucers as they bounce between the money and our faces.
