Olivia read the numbers spotlighted on the front of Gabe’s building in downtown Kansas City as he pulled into the parking garage beside the remodeled textile factory that had been turned into condominiums. Thirty-six twenty. The street address to Gabe’s building. “Ron Kober hired someone to find out where you live?” “I’ve been thinking about that. I’m in the book. My name is in the newspaper. I’m easy to find.” He parked his SUV and got out, circling around to her side as she climbed down. “But Dani never listed this place as her residence. She had an apartment over in Independence in her name that we were waiting for the lease to run out on. I’m guessing that finding a dead woman’s old address might require a little research.” When Olivia opened the back door to retrieve her overnight bag, Gabe was there first. “I’ve got it.” “I’m not an invalid.” He slipped the bag over his shoulder, away from her grasping fingers, and shut the car door.
