Jonah leaned on the railing of his balcony, watching the moving van pull into the parking lot below him. A dark sedan, in desperate need of washing, drew up beside it as the men from the van got out. One went behind the van, raising the door. While he took out a dolly, the second man walked to the car.
From his viewpoint, six stories up, all Jonah could really tell about the car’s owner was the fact his hair was going gray, and in desperate need of cutting. He appeared to be on the tall side—at least compared to the mover he was talking with.
“New blood for the ladies,” Jonah murmured when the man walked toward the back entrance of the building. From where he stood, he lost track of the man at that point, but suspected he’d unlocked the door and then put the doorstop under it to keep it
