Brody and Stella spent a fruitless afternoon hoping for a break, but as the afternoon stretched into evening and the whereabouts of Gianna and Janelle remained a mystery, Stella’s patience frayed.
“Brody, what if we don’t find them?” Stella’s voice cracked.
“We can’t think like that. We just have to keep going. What’s the next address?” Brody slowed the car while Stella read the list under the dome light.
“Forty-two Sycamore Street.”
The two drove in silence until Brody turned onto Sycamore.
She focused on a passing mailbox. “There’s thirty-six.”
Brody eased off the gas as they passed three more houses in the encroaching gloom. The lots and houses were large in this section of Scarlet Falls.
Stella searched for house numbers in the dimness. “Here it is.” She pointed to a yellow Victorian across the street from a pharmacy. “Big houses like this must cost a fortune to maintain.”
Brody owned an old beauty near the center of town. “They do, which is why so many of them get broken down into smaller units like this one.”
He parked at the curb. Originally a large house, the home had been divided into four smaller apartments. White gingerbread trim cried for repairs and a fresh coat of paint. Overgrown shrubs brushed the faded asbestos siding. From the street, the backyard looked like a rhododendron jungle.
“Your house is gorgeous,” Stella said. This one was decidedly not. She tugged her blazer over her handgun and stared at the building.
Brody got out of the driver’s seat. “Is this the right address?”
“Yes.” She checked her list. “We’re looking for Jim Crawley in apartment four.”
“What does Mr. Crawley claim to know?” Brody straightened his tie. He’d loosened the knot in the car.
“He claims to have seen a woman taken from the church parking lot last Thursday night. Says she appeared to be incapacitated. He thought her male companion was helping her, but now he thinks maybe he got that wrong.”
“So he might have seen Missy’s abduction?” Brody asked.
“Right.” Stella pulled a piece of hair off her sweaty neck and tucked it into her bun. “Let’s see what he has to say.”
A porch covered the entire front facade of the house. Two doors, marked One and Two in black script letters, stood side-by-side in the center. A “For Rent” sign hung in the front window of number two. An exterior wooden staircase ran up each side of the house to the second floor units.
“It’s the one on the right.” Brody pointed.
Pea gravel crunched under their shoes as they walked across the parking area toward an exterior staircase. Stella glanced at the windows. No curtains moved. She surveyed the neighboring houses and lots, but there was no one in sight.
“Do you feel like you’re being watched?” she asked Brody.
“I definitely feel eyes on us.” Brody scanned the house. “It’s a residential neighborhood. I’m sure there are people around.”
Wood creaked as they climbed to a second-floor landing.
They split up, each standing to one side of the white metal door.
“Mr. Crawley?” Brody rapped his knuckles below the peephole. The door swung open an inch.
The hair on the back of Stella’s neck twitched, and a bead of sweat trickled between her breasts. Her hand went to her sidearm. Tilting her head, she listened. The apartment was quiet. Voices floated on the breeze. Stella glanced at the street below. A young family was passing the house in the glow of a streetlight. The man walked a black lab while the woman pushed a toddler in an umbrella stroller.
Brody pushed the door with two fingers and peered through the opening. “Mr. Crawley? This is Detective McNamara of the Scarlet Falls PD. We’re responding to your call to the hotline.”
Silence.
Stella drew her weapon. Brody led with his gun. In unspoken agreement, he aimed high. Stella crouched as he pushed the door with a shoulder. An overhead light glowed a sickly yellow. Stained beige carpet silenced their steps as they went through the doorway.
Stella swept the living room on the right. She glanced behind a brown vinyl couch. The room wasn’t big enough to hide anywhere else, even in the shadows. “Clear.”
Brody turned left into the kitchen. “Clear.”
The floor squeaked as they went down a short hallway. Brody flipped a switch on the wall to illuminate a black and white bathroom. The shower curtain was drawn over an old cast-iron tub. Stella stood in the doorway and covered the hall while Brody pulled the curtain aside. Nothing but mold and rust inside.
Two more doors opened off the corridor. The first stood open. Boxes and plastic totes were piled from floor to ceiling along one wall.