I was about to ask him to walk outside with me, claim the neighborhood made me nervous, but he beat me to it, adding, “I should probably go too. This isn’t helping. It’s just…” He rolled his shoulders. “Making me feel useful, I guess.”

I nodded. “Same here. Better to rest and clear our heads.”

We headed downstairs. I planned to call for a cab, then circle the block in it and return for Karl.

But Guy, surprisingly, wanted to talk. Obviously he was worried and tense and, like many people under stress, he reacted by talking. He explained what the others were doing to hunt for Jaz and Sonny, then he told me some of their theories, then gave more details on their recent attack by the Cabal goons. Any other time, I’d have made the most of his loquacious mood, but all I kept thinking was How do I get out of here? before Karl shot out the front door after me. When Guy finally did pause enough for me to say, “Oh, I should call that cab,” he put out a hand to stop me.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“Oh? Uh, sure. Where are you parked?”

“Just down the road.”

He put his hand on my elbow and started leading me along the darkened sidewalk. “I want to stop by the club first, grab my stuff.”

“Sure.”

“We could probably use a drink too.” A smile my way. “On the house.”

Shit. In other words, Guy still wanted to talk. I knew I should take advantage, but my brain was spinning with worries about Jaz, and worries about Karl now too, whether he’d know where I’d gone, whether he’d remember to sniff the balcony and under it.

So how to say no to Guy without sounding like I was giving him the brush-off?

“Miss?”

I turned to see Karl approaching. He wore an ill-fitting blazer, shoulders straining the seams—a jacket meant for a thinner man, probably from Sonny’s closet. He dipped his head deferentially.

“You wanted me to wait with the cab, miss?”

His accent was a Deep South drawl, copied from Clayton, if I was any judge.

“Uh, no,” I said. “I didn’t say that, but if you’ve been waiting, I guess I should—”

“Hold on.” Guy took a couple of twenties from his pocket. “There. Go.”

Karl took a hard look at Guy, then his gaze slipped to me. “This man bothering you, miss?”

“Yeah,” Guy said, words sharp. “I’m a black guy in a bad neighborhood. Of course I’m bothering her.

Now, beat it, asshole, or—”

“I was just asking, son. No need to get your back up.”

Guy took a step toward Karl. “I’m not your son—”

I jumped between them, which was what Karl was hoping for. Rile Guy up and give me an excuse to get flustered.

I turned to Guy. “Please don’t. Not tonight. I—I should just go, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Guy protested, but I made it clear I didn’t want trouble and he stood watch as Karl led me back to the Lexus.

“Seems someone was hoping for a little company tonight,” Karl mused. “Some mutual comforting perhaps in the wake of the crisis?”

“Trust me, Guy’s not interested in the opposite sex.”

Karl backed the car out. “Oh, I’m quite certain you’re mistaken.”

“Have a sixth sense for these things, do you?”

“No, but I have an excellent sense for signs of sexual attraction. It’s difficult to lure a woman someplace quiet and divest her of her jewels without them.”

“At the risk of being sexist, I’ll suggest your radar works better on women than men, Karl. I’ve had enough attention since I got to Miami that my self-confidence is flying pretty high, and I’m telling you, Guy’s not interested in me.”

He muttered something under his breath, but didn’t answer, just circled the block, then returned to check beneath the balcony.

“Too bad Guy interrupted,” I said as we snuck around the rear of the building. “Otherwise, I could have just walked you down here before you changed back.”

His look said he wasn’t dignifying that with a retort.

“I always wanted a dog,” I said, nearly running to keep up with his long strides. “My brothers were both allergic. Have I told you that?”

“Once or twice.”

“Maybe, someday, you could humor me and—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

I grinned and jogged ahead, found the right balcony, then waved him over. “Up in the apartment, you didn’t find any blood, did you?”

He shook his head and crouched.

“And scent trails? You could make out Jaz and Sonny, right? Oh, and now you know what Guy smells like—”

“Cologne. Which—” he glanced up at me, “—most men don’t wear to go hunting for lost friends.”

“Well, he didn’t wear it for me, considering he didn’t know I was at the apartment. Maybe he was hoping for company—heading out for some club-hopping to clear his head. But you could still smell his scent, couldn’t you?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, then you have your four baseline scents including mine. Was there anyone else—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “No, there wasn’t. Now, may I finish what I’m trying to do here? Before someone hears us?”

“Sorry, I’m just—”

“Anxious. I know.” As he ducked, I thought he brushed his lips across the top of my head. “Just a few minutes, and I’ll have your answers.”

He sniffed the ground without asking me to turn away. Then he tossed me the keys. “You go back to the car. I’ll finish up here.”

A few minutes later, he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Nothing.”

“No sign of Jaz or Sonny?”

“Almost no sign of anyone. There’s little reason for anyone to walk that way unless they were planning a break-in—there are no ground-level patios and it isn’t a shortcut to anywhere. The only trails I found were faint.”

“Meaning old.”

He nodded.

“And upstairs? Only the four of us?”

“That’s harder to tell. Obviously far more traffic and it’s hard for me to distinguish a day-old scent from an hour-old one. But I’m reasonably certain no one else was in that apartment today. And I’m absolutely certain no one climbed up or down that balcony. If the door was cracked open, it’s because one of those boys opened it, and didn’t close it right.”