Angie groaned, and her stomach lurched. The thought of going into the stairwell scared the hell out of her.
“How long has it been out?”
“Since yesterday. Harvey said he’d take care of it, but he always says that and doesn’t do a fucking thing.”
Harvey—what a joke. He’s Copeland’s stooge.
“I’ll call a company to come out and fix it.”
“Are you sure? People always say shit around here and nothing ever happens.” Missy pulled open the metal door to the stairwell.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “The elevator will get fixed—I give you my word.” Angie reached for the grocery bags Missy held in her arms. “Let me help you with some of those.”
The resident smiled wide and awkwardly handed over two of the bags. “Thanks—you’re all right, you know?”
The stairwell echoed with the sounds of their feet on the concrete steps, and Angie was grateful for Missy’s company and her incessant chattering as they climbed up to the third floor. Discarded syringes, used condoms, empty liquor bottles, and fast-food wrappers littered the landings. She made a mental note to call in a cleaning crew to remove the garbage, then sanitize every hallway. Angie couldn’t wait to send the bill to Copeland, and if he refused to pay, her boss would throw the landlord out of the HUD program. For quite a while, Peter had been itching to boot Copeland for repeatedly failing to comply with the lease agreement’s stipulations, and she knew he’d back her up on hiring various professionals to get Madera Crossing moving in the right direction. She was so sick of Copeland’s slumlord tactics. The only reason she’d been hesitant to bring in outside workers was that she felt for the residents. If Copeland was kicked out of the Section 8 program, Angie didn’t doubt for one minute that the jerk would jack up the rent and evict the majority of the tenants.
“Is it cool if my sister stays with me for a bit?”
Missy’s voice invaded Angie’s thoughts.
“As long as she doesn’t stay longer than fourteen consecutive days. That’s the rule.”
“What if she stays longer? Will I be kicked out?”
Angie opened the door that led into the third-floor hallway. “The guidelines are clear—only approved family members can live with you. If she moves in, you have to call your caseworker. At that point, your sister will be considered a member of your household, so the rent will be recalculated, and she’ll have to go through a background check to be approved.”
“And if she stays a few days and then comes back again for a few days, is that cool?”
“As long as she doesn’t stay a total of twenty-one days within any given year.” Angie placed the grocery bags on the floor in front of Missy’s door. “I know—it sucks, but I don’t make the rules. Just remember that you could be thrown out of the program, and your rent assistance would stop. It could take years, if ever, to get accepted back into the low-rent agreement.”
“No worries—I’m not gonna risk that. If it wasn’t for you guys, I’d be on the streets. I couldn’t afford to pay rent for me and my kids on what I make.”
“I hear you. Everything is so expensive, especially housing. Just make sure you let your caseworker know if your sister stays longer than the program allows.”
“I will. Thanks for helping me with my groceries. I hope the elevator gets fixed soon. We got people who are too old or disabled to use the stairs.”
“I’m texting my secretary now to set up an appointment for a company to come out here.”
“That sounds great. Thanks again.”
“Missy?”
“Yeah?” the young woman replied as she pushed open her door.
“Did you see anyone suspicious lurking around here the night before last?”
Missy’s face grew taut. “Are you talking about the shadow man?” she whispered as her eyes darted up and down the corridor.
“I suppose I am. I know someone is stalking these hallways at night. I heard that some of the tenants saw him the other night.”
Taking a few steps over the threshold into her apartment, Missy shook her head as she gathered up the groceries. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t get involved with anything around here. I don’t peek out the windows when guns are fired or someone screams, and I don’t look out the peephole at night. I mind my own business. You didn’t hear a thing from me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just asking, that’s all. If you didn’t hear or see anything, that’s fine.”
“I didn’t. Really … I didn’t. I have to go now.”
The door closed. Angie heard several locks click and then Missy’s retreating footsteps. She pulled a folder out of her briefcase and glanced at the tenants with whom she had to make contact. Clutching the folder to her chest, she walked away and headed down the hall.