Page 7 of Falling For You

He looked around the apartment again. Checked the bedroom. Opened the safe in the closet. Still locked, contents untouched.

"No," he said. "I don't think so."

"Nothing at all?"

"No. Everything's here. It's just been moved."

No forced entry, apartment tossed, nothing taken.

I looked up from my notes. "Mr. Stasio, has anyone threatened you recently? Any disputes? Business, personal?"

"No. Nothing."

"Anyone you can think of who might have a reason to target you?"

"No." He said it fast. Too fast, or maybe he was just rattled. I couldn't tell which. "I have no idea why someone would do this."

I tapped my pen against the notebook. "Does the building use a cleaning service?"

"Yeah, a company. They come twice a week. Different people every time."

I wrote it down. No damage to the door meant the lock was picked or someone had a key. The building had lobby security and cameras, but a contracted cleaning crew meant unfamiliar faces moving through the building on a regular basis. Someone in a uniform with a cart wouldn't raise an alarm.

Doug called it in for a detective. We waited with Stasio until one arrived. A property crimes detective I'd seen around the precinct but never worked with. I walked him through the scene, handed over my notes, and let him take it from there.

"Diana and the kids want to get a cat." Doug pressed the button for the elevator.

"What's wrong with a cat?"

"Do you think a cat is going to defend the house from intruders?" He nodded back toward Stasio's apartment. "Like that?"

I laughed. "Maybe if it was a very big and very mean cat."

We stepped into the elevator.

"There's a program that rehomes retired K-9s." Doug hit the button for the lobby. "I've been looking into it. They're trained, disciplined, loyal."

The doors slid closed.

"Doug, your daughters want a kitten and you want a retired police dog."

"It's for their safety."

"I'm sure you're still going to get a cat. You can't say no to Diana."

Doug sighed. "Yeah."

I tried to remember the last time Elliot and I had talked about anything that wasn't work. Three days since his last message. There was a gap between us that seemed to be getting wider, and I didn't know which one of us had opened it.

"Can I ask you something?"

Doug looked over. "Shoot."

"How does Diana handle it?"

"Handle what?"

"The hours. The late nights. When you're stuck at the precinct and she's home with the kids and you're supposed to be there but you're not."