He steps back, and I can tell he’s not sure what to do, so I tell him. “Please help my fiancé find some bandages.” I hold a hand out to Dash, who looks shell-shocked. I dial Angie’s number and start toward the house, stopping by the police car to ensure both men are dead—but no visible injuries are present. The air around us outside smells fine, but I have a bad feeling. Rory is smart and creative.
I wave my hand. “Don’t go near the car. There could be gas inside, or poison.” The three police who are near the car step back. “Call for hazmat suits and people to test the air.”
One guy instantly talks on his radio as Angie answers the phone.
“Ya want to tell me why three FBI agents just showed up at the apartment and started taking all our stuff?”
I don’t have a filter, especially not when I get to this place. “Rory is the one.”
“What? What in the bloody—” She pauses before I can hear the change. “Oh God, of course he is, isn’t he? What the bloody hell else would he be doing with a girl like me? He’s been using me all along, hasn’t he?”
I hate him. “You need to go somewhere safe. Let the FBI take you into custody to a lab. Start thinking about how it is him and how we missed things. All kinds of things.”
“The bed, the bed frame with the cuts in the railings . . .” Her voice trails off. “I have to go.” She hangs up.
We both have the same journey; we must backtrack our brains and every file and find where he’s been and what he’s used against us. Against our work.
I take the steps to the townhouse slowly, peering in the windows as I approach. There’s no one here, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t booby-trapped it for me. I glance at the house next door, where a small woman with white hair looks out her window, scrutinizing us and what we are doing.
I glance back at Dash and the police. “I’ll get this lady. Evacuate the block until we know what’s in that car and this townhouse. Think we need a bomb squad.”
The police officer talking on the radio doesn’t even question anything I say, he just calls it in.
Dash looks like he might argue, but he doesn’t. He nods, blotting his face and turning to go to the other homes along the street. I go down the stairs and walk over to the lady’s house, smiling at her and flashing my badge. She opens the door when I get to it. I nod. “My name is Jane. I need to ask you some questions. Do you have a backyard we can talk in?”
“It’s very cold.” Her voice is frail and squeaky; I like it.
“I know, but we need to be away from the front of the house.”
She pulls a sweater from the old wooden stand at the front door. “Okay, Jane. My name is Esther.” She shrugs it on and shuffles through the house.
When we get to the back door she opens it and walks to the brown grass. “It’s so cold it feels like it might snow. It is Christmas next week, so that’s likely, I suppose. Sometimes we get lucky with a few flakes at Christmas.”
“Christmas and snow go hand in hand.” I smile with awkwardness, pulling my phone from my pocket. “There is a man I am looking for.” I lift the phone and scroll through the pictures until I find the one I am looking for. I point it at her.
She leans in. “Derek, the nephew of old Richard next door. He’s a sweet boy.”
I swallow hard. “I need to know everything you know about Derek.”
She gives me a skeptical look from behind her hazel eyes and drawn-on eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because he’s in danger. I think he’s in trouble, and I need to help him. He’s my partner, and someone has framed him for something terrible.”
Her jaw drops. “He knew it was coming. He said it was only a matter of time before they came looking for him. He said he’d had some bad dealings with the wrong people. Boys his age make bad choices, though, ya know?”
I nod, completely confused as to whether she knew Rory/Derek or not.
“He was the executor of the will for old Richard, or Dick, as I always called him. Derek was his executor. Poor boy, those greedy kids of Dick’s made him sign the one daughter out because she was adopted, so the house sits empty. It’s very bad for the neighborhood, you know? That’s how I met Derek; I wanted to know what was being done about the empty house. No one was mowing the lawn. It was terrible.”
Simple things work her up, but she’s earned that right. She looks a hundred if she’s a day. I can’t imagine how old Dick was if she’s calling him old.
“So Derek said that he was gonna make sure it was taken care of. That boy was good to his word. He kept the lawn nice and made sure the lights were automatic so no one got any funny ideas. He’s a very good boy.”