Chapter 7
Sunday, Mark did his usual cleaning and shopping. Monday, he called a locksmith to come out and change the locks on his door.
He stopped by Austin’s building, twice—on Sunday and then Tuesday after work. When he buzzed him, he got no answer. Not even a “Who’s there?” If it weren’t for the fact he saw lights on in the apartment every evening, he would have been worried. Okay, more worried than I am already. Did my trying to push him into talking about the death of his lover drive him deeper into his solitude? I only wanted to help. Someday, I’ll learn to keep my big mouth shut.
He did keep his mouth shut, but only barely, when he got a call Wednesday evening. It had been one of those days and he was frazzled, having dealt with customers who would have shown up on Saturday, had
