As soon as Maya had come up they'd devised a plan—for the blonde to keep watch at the house while Riley went around to ask the neighbors if they'd seen her cat, which, admittedly, was something Riley probably should've come up with a long time ago. (Preferably, before she'd started panicking.)
She went around the building twice counter-clockwise with about a fourth of the building not even coming to the door—it was on her third round that Riley rolled her shoulders back, let out an exhausted sigh, and stopped in front of door 207, three doors down from her own apartment. Her neighbors' answers and hints had brought her here.
"Priscilla Matthews, you better be behind this door," she spoke aloud, sent a prayer, and knocked on the door.
There was a muffled shout of, "Coming!" before a disheveled, lanky blue-eyed man swung open the door—with a certain green-eyed cat in his arms.
And Riley Matthews broke.
"You freaking cat thief!"