Dew ignored his aching knees and crouched in front of the door to Apartment G-104. His thick fingers worked lock-picking tools with the delicate grace of a ballerina pirouetting across the stage.
The lock clicked with a tiny sound, and Dew silently turned the deadbolt back. He stood, pulled his. 45, and took a deep breath.
They’re gonna pay, Malcolm.
He opened the door and slid into an empty living room, devoid of any furniture. He did a fast check to make sure there was nothing in any of the rooms-they were empty as well. He ran out the door into the hall, headed for the next apartment.