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Kai Armstrong took a hard look around the apartment, mentally counting down the remaining minutes left to search it. The woman's home was impeccably clean, organized to the point of insanity. Instead of making it easier, the neatness made it twice as hard to be thorough, and dammit, he knew he was overlooking something. He could feel it in his bones.
The bedroom, however, was subtly different. Although it was just as tidy, it was unequivocally feminine. The stale apartment air was faintly scented with perfume, lotions, and face powder. Her closet revealed conservative