There was a light on in a back room of the leasing office and only one car parked out front. It was after hours; Schultz had to knock on the front door. A man emerged from the hallway inside, wiping his hands with a paper towel.
We’re closed, he mouthed.
“I need help,” Schultz said, his breath fogging the glass.
The man came to the door and opened it. He had a brass nametag needled through his shirt with the words LEASING SPECIALIST engraved.
“What can I help you with,” said the man.
Schultz was slightly bent over in the doorway, clutching a specific place above his navel. “I need to see your cameras,” he said. “I live in 2813 and I think somebody came into my apartment this afternoon while I was out. Getting some groceries.”
The man was expressionless in the doorway.
“I came home,” Schultz said. “I wasn’t robbed. But things were moved around and I could tell somebody came in. I could just tell. And so I was hoping maybe there was surveillance or something I could look at. A camera from the main entrance. I know what kind of car… Read more »