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Frank had been brushing her off for more than a week, and then, suddenly, he wasn't answering her at all. For days he hadn't answered her. Nina was sure there was some kind of rational explanation, but she wasn't in the mood to humor that thought. Things had been strange around Darrow, and she had just handled her best friend on the verge of a complete nervous break down, and it was terribly easy to imagine that Frank had lost his mind or was dead in a ditch somewhere.
So she threw on her sweeping red coat and went to his apartment. She tried the door, gently, and found it locked. That wasn't a problem. She knelt on the landing and carefully picked it, the way she'd learned to from Kaz, until she heard the click and pop of the lock releasing.
She stood again and let herself in as quietly as she could. She was aware of two hearts beating, two sets of lungs breathing: Frank had company. She closed the door and locked it behind her, taking in the sad state of things - no different from the last time she'd been here, other than the fact that there was an extra body in the bed and she could smell the alcohol lingering. Saints, how drunk had they been?
Nina eyed the bed, and the two men in it, then huffed. She took off her coat and left it draped over the police scanner on the table. She found Frank's coffee maker and started banging things around - cabinet doors, mugs, the can of coffee - as she set about brewing a pot.
She was so angry now that she knew Frank was alive.
So she threw on her sweeping red coat and went to his apartment. She tried the door, gently, and found it locked. That wasn't a problem. She knelt on the landing and carefully picked it, the way she'd learned to from Kaz, until she heard the click and pop of the lock releasing.
She stood again and let herself in as quietly as she could. She was aware of two hearts beating, two sets of lungs breathing: Frank had company. She closed the door and locked it behind her, taking in the sad state of things - no different from the last time she'd been here, other than the fact that there was an extra body in the bed and she could smell the alcohol lingering. Saints, how drunk had they been?
Nina eyed the bed, and the two men in it, then huffed. She took off her coat and left it draped over the police scanner on the table. She found Frank's coffee maker and started banging things around - cabinet doors, mugs, the can of coffee - as she set about brewing a pot.
She was so angry now that she knew Frank was alive.
