Gregory waited patiently as Melinda began to climb the stairs. The girl was on the cusp of becoming an amazing woman. Her brunette curls weren't tight enough to be a huge problem like his daughter's, but the perfect balance of wave to volume. If she let it grow, a stylist would be able to give her an amazing cut. Having three daughters and now more granddaughters made him an expert in all things beauty and tomboy.

Melinda was pausing longer than what he considered normal on each step even with her bruised and bleeding knees. There must be a reason, and he was curious.

How do I approach this? There's such an old soul peering from her eyes. Such strength as well. What made her this way and at such a young age? And why do I think I've seen that face somewhere before? Those eyes. I keep coming back to her eyes. Luminous deep brown with tiny flecks of whisky gold. The edges of her pupils are black. They're unique and I'm sure I've seen them somewhere before.

He couldn't help counting the stairs and gave a small snort as he came to the top. Thirteen. For some an unlucky number, but for him, it brought nothing but luck. He met his wife on the thirteenth and their first home was apartment thirteen as well. Another sign he was in the right place once more.

The landing at the top was more a balcony than a narrow walkway. Someone put window boxes on the railing, and herbs grew in abundance along the entire length. He spotted rosemary with its spikey branches in a pot on the other side of the second door. Several bunches of chives caught the sun peering around the corner of the building.

Melinda fumbled in her pocket. She must be looking for her keys. He could see the outline of her cellphone in one of her back pockets. Goosebumps on her arms made him wonder why she had no jacket. It was chilly in the shade. Two bunches of keys dropped onto the cedar planking, and another quiet sob shook her shoulders as she put her hand up to brace herself. She started to bend down to pick them up.

"I'll get them," he said. "Which ones are the apartment keys?"

"The ones with the Pike's Peak charm," Melinda replied.

Gregory unlocked the deadbolt and tried the doorknob. Good, locked too. Turning the key again, he pushed the door open, and waited for her to enter. She was short, his best guess around five foot two, and far heavier than Darlene, who refused to do more than run once a week for exercise. The toned muscles he noted in her arms, were a good hint she did more than a little strength training.

"Have you been to Pike's Peak?" he asked.

"No, but it's a goal. Lana gave me the charm, and I've seen pictures. Once I get my car, I'll make it my first road trip."

"I think that's a great goal. What are you studying?"

"Business. I love everything about numbers, and the way economies work." She plopped into the first chair she found. There were two on either side of a tiny table with fold down expandable sections. "I've never done so much damage to my knees before. I can barely bend my right one."

"You went down hard, with no warning. I'm not surprised. Where's the door through to the bakery?"

"In the living room." Melinda pointed to it. The open floor plan made the apartment far less cramped than most of the over business rental units in the neighborhood. "The bathroom is right there." She nodded toward a door at the end of a few storage cabinets.

At least she seems to have some sort of support. Lana isn't one of the women who own Cozy Corner. His innate curiosity always made him research the particulars of any restaurant or food related business he was interested in. This one fit his needs perfectly. A quick walk from home it was in one of the older main streets of a town absorbed into Fort Collins. The two short blocks where Cozy Corner was located reflected the same charm Disneyland imitated when it was built.

He unlocked the door, noting the same deadbolt and keyed doorknob system as Melinda's front entrance. These ladies did things right. Knocking on the Elena's side, he waited for her to open it. He already had whiffs of brownies baking. This place was going to play havoc with his waistline if he wasn't careful.

Elena opened the door with one hand in an oven mitt which held a pan of brownies. His mouth watered as she spoke. "These still need some icing. Triple chocolate. Fudge icing and there are chunks of white and dark chocolate and walnuts in the batter."

Clever woman. I wonder if she knows my weakness. Probably. I make no secret of my finds when I discover an exceptional example. These might be one of them. Too bad I won't be writing about it. I want this place to be my little secret.

"Bring one over for Melinda. She needs to eat, and I doubt she's got much in that fridge of hers," he suggested.

"I'll do that. You can leave her now. I'll be sure to get her to relax. Maybe get her to turn on the TV or get some music going."

"I'll be back with the Advil. Kids never think of keeping some painkillers around."

"Thanks for your help. I'll make sure to cover your repair bill on the laptop. Make sure you bring me the receipt."

Gregory shook his head. "This wasn't anyone's fault. Just an unfortunate oversight. I don't think your contractor even had a chance to check his site yet. This laptop was hanging on by thread, but it's time to retire it anyway. I'll take the hint."

Elena moved over to a table to set the brownies on a cooling rack. "That's very generous of you. I hope this doesn't keep you from coming back."

"Not a chance. There's something about Melinda," he said as he followed her into her workspace. "Those eyes. I want to keep an eye on her. I think she could do with a few friends."

"I know. Such sadness. Peggy's sister recommended her to us. She's got an amazing feel for the coffee bar. I've never seen anyone track the coffee use and quality like she does. We'd be fools to let her get away. Don't know much about her though. She doesn't talk much about herself except for her goals."

"Good to know. I've got to go though; I don't want Melinda suffering. The adrenaline is going to wear off pretty quick."

"And I have a timer going off. See you when you get back."

Elena turned to silence a buzzer and opened an oven door to reveal several pies. He took the hint and retreated back into Melinda's apartment, to find her stretched out on her couch. It was the only piece of furniture in the living room other than a small end table and a lamp. A screen on the wall flickered as she scrolled through the channels and then gave up and turned it off.

"Nothing to watch?" he asked.

"No, just too many choices."

"Try finding some music." He knew it could help with anxiety if she found something that suited her.

"Classics. Love them." She picked up a wireless keyboard after powering the screen on again. "I don't like the stuff the other kids listened to." She tapped her choice into the search bar, and he recognized the opening strains of a Beethoven symphony.

"Good choice. Lock up. I'll be back in about half an hour."

"You don't have to do this," Melinda protested.

"Maybe not, but you look like you could use a friend."

"Friend? What's that? I know a few people but that's about it."

Gregory winced.

Where did she grow up? I'm definitely not giving up on her.

"Then let's make a deal right now. I'll be your first friend in Fort Collins."

"I don't know if I'll be much of a friend," she protested.

"Let me be the judge of that." He moved through to her kitchen and stopped before he went out the door. "Just stay right there and I'll be right back."

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