Chapter 2

Frankie walked into her apartment later that evening with a splitting headache. She tossed her purse onto the couch and groggily went to the medicine cabinet in her bathroom. She pushed the cabinet shut a little harder than she had intended to when she realized she didn't have any Tylenol or anything. That was strange…she always had some kind of painkiller on hand. A strenuous day on the job always gave her a headache so usually made sure she had a bottle of Tylenol around somewhere. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and walked back out the door and down the hallway. She'd ask go downstairs to the apartment office and see if Mr. Miles had anything. He was an older guy, probably in his sixties or seventies, and Frankie had befriended him right away when she moved into her apartment.

"Hey, Frankie!" Mr. Miles looked up from his paperwork as he heard his office door being opened. "What a pleasant sight after all this paper junk I've been working on." He tossed the pile aside and folded his hands on top of his desk. "What can I help you with today?"

Frankie smiled at his second comment. "I just came down to see if you had any Tylenol."

"Another one of those work headaches?" Mr. Miles said sympathetically.

"'Fraid so." Frankie nodded and watched as Mr. Miles began rummaging through his desk drawers. She waited to see what he would come up with.

"Ah ha!" He tossed a rattling bottle at her and grinned as she caught it gracefully. "It's not Tylenol, but if you ask me they all work the same. Not what they want you to think by the way they do their commercials though!"

Frankie laughed at the old man's humor as she pried the lid from the bottle and dumped out two pills. She handed the Aleve back to Mr. Miles, "Thanks."

She began to walk back up to her room but she was stopped by Mr. Miles, who seemed as if he had suddenly remembered something. "Did you get the message from your cousin?"

Frankie turned back to face him with a very confused expression. "What message?'

"Well, a young man came through here not too long ago. He asked what room was yours and said he was your cousin. I wouldn't have let him in if he didn't have an I.D. on him. I believe his name was…James. Yes that was it! James Ellroy." Miles tilted his chair back and rested his feet on top of his desk. It was quite a sight for someone who looked as old as he did, especially since he looked older than he really was.

"James Ellroy was here? He lives in Salt Lake City, Utah - I haven't heard from him in years!" Frankie folded her arms and tapped her foot once on the ground. "What did he look like?"

"Let's see…he had black hair, I think. Well, no, he was wearing a hat." Miles bit his lip trying to think.

He couldn't seem to think of anything to say about the man so Frankie decided to help him along. "What color were his eyes?"

"That I don't know," When Frankie gave him a questioning look he finished his sentence, "he was wearing sunglasses."

She sighed, "Did he have any noticeable scars?"

Miles shook his head, "He was wearing a scarf…and gloves."

Frankie sighed. "Alright, how about his height." Certainly the old man would remember about how tall her cousin was.

"Now that I remember! I think he was a little taller than you…or maybe a little shorter." Miles shrugged. "I'm sorry, Frankie. I just can't seem to remember anything about the man. But I do know that he was wearing a black suit jacket and pants. Oh, and he had a gun." He added the last statement as sort of an afterthought, but to Frankie this was the most important statement of all.

"He had a gun?" Frankie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And you let him in my apartment!" She was beginning to feel less and less secure living in this apartment building. She couldn't believe Miles had let someone with a gun into her apartment without her permission.

"Hey, he had I.D. So long as you got I.D. to prove who you are, you're in." Miles raised his hands in defense for his actions.

Frankie nodded. "Yeah." She spoke the word absentmindedly as she walked back up to her room. Mr. Miles was a nice man, but he apparently wasn't very bright. Frankie took the pills with a drink of water from the hallway drinking fountain before she unlocked her door and walked inside. There on the living room coffee table was a small piece of paper. She must not have noticed it the first time she walked in because she was so preoccupied with her headache.

Frankie picked up the note and read it silently.

Frankie Ellroy-Kilmer,

We are pleased to inform you that Mr. Matt Rollins has paid dearly for what he was about to do. We have saved you the trouble of having to make an arrest. You should never have butted into our affairs as this has cost Mr. Rollins his life. We must simply let you know that you and the Homeland Security team are wholly responsible for Mr. Rollins' fate. We warn you, do not make the same mistake again or it will cost the lives of many more.

With Warning,
X

P.S. We'll be watching.

Frankie placed the note back on the table and looked cautiously about her apartment. Had anything been tampered with? She didn't think so. Whoever had come into her apartment had simply put down the note and left - and she knew it wasn't her cousin James.