His footsteps were heavy, deliberate. A jacket was tossed over the back of a sofa. The scent of night air, cigar smoke, and something coppery trailed in his wake.

He moved through the open-plan living area, past the floor-to-ceiling windows that showed a grid of sleeping city lights. The kitchen island was spotless. The bedroom door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar, a strip of warm light bleeding onto the dark floor.