“Then the security’s solid. Stop working for a moment.”
He smelled the way he had three weeks ago in my apartment: cherry and vanilla cologne. He kept his lips where they were, and his nose nuzzled my cheek.
“Reed’s at the door,” I said.
“He is.”
“Cabot and Wiley—“
“Are in the parlor. I checked before I left.” His hand on my chest pressed firmly. “And I know the floors, Dane. They announce everyone, even you.”
I closed my eyes for the length of one breath. I leaned back against him. Not far. Just enough to press my shoulder blades into his chest.
“Yes, you’re still there,” Farrow said. He stepped back before I had to.
The footsteps retreated to the parlor. He’d confirmed what he wanted to know.
I turned and walked back down the hall. Cabot looked up from his notebook as I entered the parlor. Farrow was at the window seat, one shoulder to the wall beside the frame, his body angled into the room.
“Upstairs,” I said.
Cabot’s pen paused. “Now?”
“Now.”
“Why?” asked Wiley.
“I want you off the ground floor before it’s dark out,” I said. “Bring whatever you’re working on.”
Cabot rose first. Wiley took longer. He capped his red pen and tucked a folder under his arm before standing.
“Lead the way,” he said.
We were halfway up when Wiley asked, “Is there a reason we—”
“Yes,” I said. “The bedrooms are upstairs. They are also to the rear, so you’re not on a shared wall with the street.”
“You’re concerned about the line of sight?” Cabot asked.
“I’m concerned about you being visible from the street when you shouldn’t be.”
“That seems reasonable,” he said. “I’m doing my best to be invisible.”
“You’ll take this one,” I told Wiley, opening a door at the rear. “Bathroom’s across the hall. Keep the door closed when you’re sleeping.”
He stepped in and looked around. The room had a single bed and a small desk with a ladder-backed chair.
“You want it locked?”
“I want it closed. Locking will slow movement.”
He nodded. “And him?” He tipped his chin toward Cabot, who waited in the hall.
“Next room. Same rules.”
Cabot rested his hand on the doorframe. “My grandmother kept a house like this in Brookline. She had the same wallpaper and the same steps that creaked. It’s odd to be inside it again.”
“Settle in. If there’s something you need, let Farrow or me know.”