Upstairs, the door to Mrs. K’s apartment stood ajar. Vic hesitated, hand hovering above the knob, his mind exploring the dark rooms on the other side. He sensed Mrs. K on the floor of the living room, hands tied behind her back, mouth gagged. There was another presence in the room, as well, a young man whose nerves danced like grease on a hot frying pan. His body buzzed, his thoughts a flickering whirl Vic couldn’t understand. The guy was high on something, probably looking to steal a few bucks for another hit of whatever roiled through his system.
At the moment, he rifled through the hall closet directly on the other side of the front door. That flimsy piece of wood was all that separated him and Vic.
Setting his shoulder against the door, Vic hit it, hard, and bullied his way into the
