His gaze hardened as he looked over the bedroom, the desperate graffiti on the wall, the scraps of paper. If he'd needed any further confirmation that Vaughn was out of her fucking mind, well, there it was.
He looked over the apartment numbers. 1007, of course, he knew, and there was his own apartment number. 201 he wasn't familiar with. 1006 he vaguely remembered, but he'd been gone since Kane had been found dead in his apartment.
He glanced up at her, caught her watching him. "1007 is my girlfriend," he said. "1006 was an old tenant, he's been gone for months. I don't know 201, though, do you?"