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We're breaking and entering he said. I need your skills he said. Don't bring Noah he said.

Well.

Hurst was down for all of those.

The red haired man was currently standing outside the apartments belonging to one Sol Olga Sayle, in front of the mailbox, specifically. He had just picked the lock on her mail box, and his head was cocked as he stared at all the mail that had been stuffed into it. Some of it even spilled and fluttered to the ground.

He decided to meet his Russian friend here, since the location was between their two apartments. Also, since he was waiting, he just decided to go ahead and get started with this whole...investigation.

"I didn't go inside yet." Hurst replied airily, now shuffling through some of the mail to check the dates that were stamped on them. Hm. "The oldest piece of mail was from a few days before Christmas Eve." It seemed like the box hadn't been checked since then, given how full it was and the other dates that were stamped. The man stuffed the mail back into the box, and closed the door. He made quick work of locking it back up, and then turned to follow Sergei, a brow raised.

"This isn't my first time doing this, you know." He told the other man with some amusement, but in a rare show for Hurst, it was short lived. They only just started, and already what they were seeing was very off. Not to mention Sergei's friend's typical pattern of behavior was incredibly off as well. He did his surveillance of the nearby area, and it was clear for the time being. "You should be watching the streets, unless you, too, have picked up lock picking, Officer."

"I'm always right."

He knelt in front of the door and pulled out his tools, setting to work. This wasn't a high end apartment exactly, so the lock was rather easy. "Alright. So that was the last time you actually saw her. When was the last time you heard from her? Did she say what she was doing?" After a few moments and a few soft clocks, Hurst turned the knob and pushed the door open.

He stood, and reached inside to flick on the light switch. It didn't turn on. "Mn. Power's out." He murmured, and then stepped back, making a sweeping gesture for Sergei.

"After you."

"Always." He couldn't help but chuckle as Sergei jumped. "At least it doesn't have your face taped on it, right?" He asked, because this was clearly the bright side. Once again, that bit of amusement was short lived as his friend reported the contents of the fridge. Hurst was keeping a mental checklist for this investigation, and the tallies that were starting to stack were not for the better.

Hurst produced his own small flashlight, and took to just surveying the small apartment. It was still neat. Up kept. It had the lived in feel of a young woman passionate about Outlander and in college. The air was admittedly a bit musty though, like no currents had moved through here in a long time. Poking through Olga's clothes and toiletries as well showed that nothing was missing. That she hadn't packed to go somewhere for a very long time. Plus...she was so on top of communicating with Sergei, and updating him about things she was up to, that this was concerning.

"Cody?" Hurst came back over and tapped the man on the shoulder with his flashlight. With that little distraction, his free hand slipped Sergei's phone out of it's pocket, and he then turned away, punching in the man's phone pin. "That is kind of mean for someone who thinks the world of you. She must have been dropped on her head a few times as a baby." He went to messages, and pulled up the thread with Olga.

"The last thing she texted you was that she was going horseback riding for the day with her friend on Christmas Eve." He tossed Sergei's phone back at him, and then did another sweep of the apartment, the smile gone from his face.

No one with even half a brain could ignore Destiny City's high and unexplained rate of missing persons. Unless you were in the know, of course. Yes. Everything they had found (or didn't, even) was pointing exactly to that conclusion.

Well damn.

There had always been enough separation for Hurst that he never thought too much about it before. Now with only two degrees between him and what could happen...it was a sobering reminder of the time and place they lived in. Also another reason to stay as far out of that nonsense as possible. But would it really matter? Especially if they just happened to snag plain ol' innocents off the street?

Poor girl. Her poor parents.

"Whatever happened, they must not have gotten much information out of her." He turned to look at Sergei. "You're still here, and so is Nadia." Hurst trailed off for a moment. "She's going to be heart broken."

Nadia, that was.

"If the powers that be have her though...maybe she'll turn up."

If she wasn't dead.

Hurst clicked off his flashlight, not needing it anymore. He pocketed it and crossed his arms as Sergei moved over to him. "I'm not going to tell her." He replied. "You are. Nadia is a clever woman, Sergei, and if you noticed it was unusual for Olga to not reply to your texts, then you know she has as well."

And if she had been so busy that she hadn't noticed yet, it was only a matter of time.

He was always right.

Hurst was actually eager to leave since they had found out what they needed. This apartment felt more like a grave site now than a home. Being the last out the door, he couldn't help but cast one last glance into the darkness of someone's life, and locked the door behind him as he left.