“Yeah, the idiot cops didn’t even look at it as far as I could tell,” my dad groused. “But I did. I looked into it. According to you building’s manager, they hadn’t worked in a couple of years, but they just left them there broken. They got the security company to turn in the old tapes to the cops, but there was nothing showing the guy coming to your apartment at night. But I’ve been wondering…you said you got into your apartment before by picking the lock with a credit card. Did you ever tell anyone about that?”
“As far as I can remember, no, and if I did, it would have been a close friend. It was literally like five years ago when I did that, though.”
Judging by how furiously my dad started sucking down his drink, I could tell he was on to something. He killed all of the liquid in the glass and spoke up.
“If it was five years ago, those security cameras probably still worked. They would’ve had to have seen you do it.”
We both sat there silently for a few moments, soaking in the revelation – my dad started chewing on his gin-washed ice and I finished the last of my drink.
“They also would’ve known that the cameras didn’t actually work the past couple of years,” I chimed in.
We sat there silently for a few more moments before I asked another question.
“What was the name of the security company?”
Alta Rose Security’s office was tucked into the middle of the endless sun-bleached field of warehouses and factories that was City of Industry, California. The hideous white stucco building the company took residence in looked possibly abandoned when my dad and I walked up to the heavily-barred front door.
My dad dialed up the listed extension for Alta Rose on a filthy little call box next to the door. Without a word from the other end, the box made a muffled noise and the black-barred door gave a hearty buzz.
We entered a dark, stuffy little hallway that smelled like a mix of chlorine and the ghosts of cigarettes led us to a thick mahogany door for Alta Rose.
I followed my dad inside the office.