The halogen light above me was flickering like a bad omen. “Uh… sure, yeah. Just let me know when you’re in town and we’ll hook up.”
Reese leaned forward, his eyes doubling in size.
“Why don’t you text me your number, so I can get in touch with you on Friday?” she asked.
This chick was good.
“OK. Is your cell on the card you gave me?” I asked.
“Sure is!” she bubbled.
“All right. Thanks, Shannon.”
“Have a wonderful day, Nathan,” she said.
“You too.” I quickly slammed the phone onto the receiver before she could say anything else.
Reese was laughing. “Well?”
“She’s coming to town this weekend. I left my watch at her apartment.”
He smiled at me and cut his eyes in question. “So you could see her again?”
I shook my head. “Definitely not.”
“Sure, Nate.” He stood up and stretched his long arms over his head. “Whatever you say, brother.”
I laughed and pointed to my door. “Get out of my office.”
When he was gone, I turned on my computer and brought up my case files.
There had been six high profile robberies in our jurisdiction spread out over the first few months of the new year. One or, possibly, two suspects targeted large homes in rural neighborhoods, nothing too far off the beaten path but somehow all conveniently located just out of our immediate reach. The week before, they had hit the home of Albert Kensington—the mayor of Apex. Like the rest of the victims, he and his wife had recently left the home when the thieves broke in. It was unclear whether the mayor was specifically targeted or if it was a coincidence. Thankfully, no one had been injured during any of the robberies, but we all knew that could change at any moment.
The thieves mainly stole cash—all of the victims kept plenty of it in their homes—but at the Kensington residence, they took his whole damn safe. Inside the safe, he kept a notebook full of his passwords to various websites, including his bank account. Before daybreak, $13,000 had been transferred out of his checking and into a web-based account that was opened in the name of Justin Sider, which was funnier and funnier the more I thought about it.
By the time I tracked down Justin Sider’s account, it was empty. The money had been withdrawn by Mr. Sider in person from a branch in Virginia. Unfortunately, that bank’s cameras were offline that day for maintenance. Whoever the thieves were, they were good.
I picked up the phone and dialed Mayor Kensington’s office to tell him I still had nothing to tell him. I prayed it would be enough to keep Lieutenant Carr off my back for the rest of the day.
* * *
After work, I drove out to Durham to visit my parents. Even though it was only thirty miles away from my apartment in Raleigh, it felt like an eternity with rush hour traffic. Raleigh and Durham bled closer and closer to each other as commercial zoning spread out wider each year. It wouldn’t be long before there was zero distinction at all. As chaotic as traffic was, it was still the only place I would ever call home. Raleigh-Durham was the only metropolis I knew of where bootlegging moonshine was still considered a profession and whole-hog smoking was a way of life. In fact, I’m pretty sure there was an unwritten rule that in order to be considered a true resident, one had to host at least one annual pig-pickin’. Considering the population, crime was at a minimum, and most acts of violence started and ended with college basketball.
Mom and Dad still lived in the same house I grew up in, on a now coveted thirteen acres just outside the city limits. When I pulled in the gravel driveway of the two-story farmhouse, I parked next to my sister Lara’s minivan near the steps of the white front porch.
“Knock, knock,” I announced as I walked in the front door.
“In the kitchen!’ my mother called out.
I slipped off my boots by the door and walked down the kitchen toward the smell of a roast in the oven. The swinging door from the family room flew open and my three foot nephew, Carter, slid across the hardwood floor in his socks toward me. “Unca Nate!”
I laughed and scooped him up in my arms. “Hey, bud.”
He grabbed my nose and pinched it as I carried him into the kitchen. Chocolate—I hoped—was smeared across his cheeks. “Momma says you don’t wuv us anymo’ah.”
My sister and his mother, Lara, was chopping a tomato on the island. Her mouth fell open. “I said no such thing!”
I blinked with disbelief.
Carter tugged on my nose again. “She says you’ah too busy being a big shot detective to come an’ bisit us anymo’ah.”
“Is that so?” I asked.