Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [52]
She hated elevators. Hated small places. She should have taken the stairs. Her eyes searched for the emergency phone. There wasn’t one. Seconds flew by and the light above showed only that she had reached the second floor. She punched three, hoping to cut short her trip, but the button crumbled into pieces. Frantically, she picked up the bigger pieces and began replacing them into the frame like a puzzle. Two stayed, one fell down into the hole, the others fell back to the floor. The elevator jolted to a stop, and finally its doors screeched open. Christine squeezed through before they were completely open.
She stopped in the hallway, leaning against the dirty wall, waiting to catch her breath. The light was dim, the carpeting filled with more stains. Again, the smell of dog urine mixed with the scent of old, musty newspapers and someone’s burnt dinner. How could anyone live in a hole like this?
Apartment 410 was at the end of the hallway. A hand-braided welcome mat lay outside the scratched and battered door. The mat was clean, spotless.
Christine knocked and held her breath to avoid the hallway’s suffocating odors. Several locks clicked inside, then the door opened just a crack. A pair of hooded and wrinkled blue eyes peered at her through thick glasses.
“Mrs. Krichek?” she asked as politely as possible while holding her breath.
“Are you that reporter?”
“Yes. Yes, I am. My name is Christine Hamilton.”
The door opened, and she waited for the woman to back out of the way with her walker.
“Any relation to Ned Hamilton, owns the Quick Mart on the corner?”
“No, I don’t think so. Hamilton is my ex-husband’s name, and he isn’t from around here.”
“I see.” The woman shuffled away.
Once inside, Christine was accosted by three large yellow and gray cats rubbing against her legs.
“I just fixed a pot of hot chocolate. Would you like some?”
She almost said yes, then saw the steaming pot on the coffee table where another large cat helped itself to several licks off the top.
“No, thank you.” She hoped her voice disguised her disgust.
Other than the cats, the apartment smelled much cleaner than the hallway. The ammonia of a hidden litter box was obvious but bearable. Colorful afghans and quilts were draped over the couch and a rocker. Green plants hung above the windows, and crocheted doilies dotted an antique buffet and secretary’s desk. Both tops were filled with black-and-white photos of servicemen, a young couple in front of an old Buick and three colored photos of a little girl at various stages of her life.
“Sit,” the old woman instructed, backing herself into the rocker. “Oh, the pain in this shoulder,” she said, rubbing the bony knob sticking up through her sweater. “Such pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Her bones did look brittle. Knobby knees stuck out from under her plain cotton housedress. Her round face twisted into a permanent scowl. Her brilliant blue eyes were magnified and distorted by the thick wire-rimmed glasses. Her white hair was twisted neatly into a bun, clasped by beautiful turquoise hair combs.
“It’s hell getting old. If it wasn’t for my cats, I think I’d call it quits.”
Christine sat and watched her navy skirt fill with cat hair. Two of the cats still circled her legs while one jumped onto the back of the couch to take a closer look.
“Rummy, get down from there,” the woman scolded, waving a bony finger at the cat. He ignored her.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Krichek. I don’t mind,” she lied. “I’d like to get right to what you saw the morning Danny Alverez disappeared. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No. Not at all. I’m glad somebody’s finally interested.”
“The sheriff’s office has never come here to question you?”
“I called them twice. In fact, just this morning before