Eric Erikson hit the buzzer for Valerie’s apartment and got no response.
He considered that it was awfully late, she’d probably gone to bed. Maybe he should go. But she’d sounded so desperate.
He hit the buzzer again, longer and harder.
No voice squawked out of the speaker. But there was click, then a groan, like someone in deep pain. Like someone who’d been stabbed, or worse. When the door release buzzed, he went in fast. He shouldered his bike and bolted up the two flights. He dropped his bike in the hall, leaning it against the sturdy mahogany railing that overlooked the stairwell, and knocked on her door with a fast rat-a-tat.
No response.
He was preparing to test his shoulder against her door locks when he heard the chain drop and the deadbolt being thrown back. The door cracked
