Free Burning Justice by Leighann Dobbs Page B

persnickety security system.
    “Please state your business,” it said briskly after I pressed the button.
    I held up the white bakery box. “I’ve brought some cupcake tops for Gerta Beavers.”
    “Weren’t you the lady who was here yesterday looking for Jenny Sparks?”
    “Yes, so? A person can’t have more than one friend in a building?”
    “I just think it’s a little suspicious. I don’t think you know Gerta at all. In fact, my databanks show that you met Gerta right in this very lobby yesterday.”
    “So what if I did? I’m bringing her cupcake tops today. She was a nice old lady and she was very helpful. Are you going to let me in or not?”
    “My duty is to protect the residents of this building. I sense that you are up to something. Admittance denied.”
    And with that, its light blinked off and its panel shut down. What the heck? The door behind me whooshed open and I whirled around, relived to see Gerta hobbling through the door. Her eyes lit in recognition when she saw me. “You’re the young lady that was here yesterday looking for Jenny, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.” I stuck out my hand. “My name is Callie Justice. I actually brought these cupcake tops for you.”
    Gerta put her gnarled, wrinkled hand into mine. Her skin was dry and paper thin, but her handshake was surprisingly strong. Her eyes flicked to the bakery box.
    “I do love cupcake tops. I have fresh coffee in my apartment. Won’t you come in?” She hobbled over to the security panel and typed in her code then hit the green button. The door clicked open and I held it for her to precede me.
    When she was through the door, I turned around and stuck my tongue out at the security system then slipped through the door, a childish feeling of victory bubbling up inside me.
    Gerta's apartment was on the second floor and we took a rickety elevator up, then walked about one hundred feet to a plain metal door. I glanced around the hallway wondering which door was Jenny’s.
    As if reading my mind, Gerta said, “Jenny hasn’t come back yet.”
    Gerta pressed her thumb to a keypad beside the door and the door clicked open. “My grandson installed this fingerprint security pad. Not all the apartments have them. He was worried about my safety.”
    “One can’t be too careful these days.” I followed her inside. The main door opened right into the living room. It was done in blue and yellow with lots of floral fabrics and overstuffed furniture. A white wrought iron birdcage sat in the corner, a colorful green and yellow bird chirping pleasantly inside.
    “That’s Petunia. She’s a parakeet. Keeps me company.” Gerta motioned for me to follow her through the living room to the door on the right that opened into the dining room. She gestured for me to sit at an ornate mahogany dining room table While she disappeared through another small door into a modest kitchen, a little outdated with dark granite countertops and oak cabinets.
    I saw Gerta approach a gleaming silver machine—Mr. Caffeine.
    “Jonathan, I would like two Brazilian coffees.”
    Jonathan? Hers had a name? Maybe if I named mine, it would be more agreeable.
    “As you wish.” The machine whirred happily. Apparently, Mr. Caffeine was nicer to other people.
    Gerta got busy taking things out of the cabinet and the fridge.
    “Can I help with anything?” I asked.
    “No, dear.” Gerta's voice was muffled from inside the refrigerator. “I’m just getting some cream and sugar for coffee. You just sit there. You’re my guest.”
    I did as told. I could tell Gerta liked fussing over people and I figured she didn’t get a lot of visitors, so this was probably fun for her. Besides, I was afraid if I went in the kitchen, Mr. Caffeine would start spewing hot water all over the place.
    Gerta hobbled back, struggling with a silver tray, on which she had put out a matching crystal creamer and sugar bowl. Wisps of steam drifted up from two delicate, pink-flowered cups that sat in the