"Kinsey Millhone," I said, introducing myself. We shook hands. "I'm a neighbor from down that way." My gesture was vague but conveyed the general direction.

Ray's gaze moved past me into the apartment. "Any idea when Bucky's due back?"

"Around one, he said."

"Are you looking to rent?"

"Oh heavens, no. Are you?"

"Well, I hope to," he said. "If I can talk Bucky into it. I put down a deposit, but he's dragging his feet on the rental agreement. I don't know what the problem is, but I'm worried he'll rent it out from under me. For a minute, when I saw all those boxes, I thought you were moving in." The guy had a southern accent I couldn't quite place. Maybe Texas or Arkansas.

"I think Bucky's trying to get the place cleared. Were you the one who offered to haul all the stuff out for a break in the rent?"

"Well, yeah, and I thought he was going to take me up on it, but now that his dad's in town, the two keep coming up with new schemes. First, Bucky and his wife decided they'd take this place and rent out the house instead. Then his dad said he wanted it for the times he comes out to visit. I don't mean to be pushy, but I was hoping to move in sometime this week. I've been staying in a hotel… nothing fancy, but it adds up."

"I wish I could help, but you'll have to take it up with him."

"Oh, I know it's not your problem. I was just trying to explain. Maybe I'll stop by again when he gets back. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Not at all. Come on in, if you like. I'm just going through some boxes," I said. I moved back to my seat. I picked up a book and riffled through the pages.

Ray Rawson entered the room with all the caution of a cat. I pegged him at five ten, probably 180 pounds, with a hefty chest and biceps for a guy his age.