Page 121 of The Deadly Shallows

Emmy took a deep inhale and released it. “Here we go.” She laid the bundle onto the table and slowly unraveled the towel to reveal a Colt pistol.

“May I?” Austin asked, indicating the gun.

Emmy stepped back. “Be my guest.”

“It’s a Colt 1911,” Austin said. “These things were made as a tribute to the revered Commercial Government Model pistols of the past.”

“But why did Dwayne—if that is his actual name—leave this behind?” Brooke asked.

“Maybe he left in a hurry,” Em said.

“Yes, that’s highly likely. But why?” Austin asked.

“Just one more in a long line of questions about this guy.” Brooke said, her shoulders growing taut again, her brow furrowing. “That’s all we have with this guy—questions.”

“We should pray for answers,” Emmy said.

“Definitely,” Austin said. “The combination of this guy’s lifestyle and the contents of that box . . . I’m afraid we haven’t seen the worst of it.”

FIFTY-EIGHT

Noah paced impatiently as Rissi placed calls to Lieutenants Malone and Caldwell.

“No answer for either,” she said, slipping her cell back into her black trouser pocket.

“Caleb,” Noah said, “you and Rissi head over to Malone’s place.”

“Roger that.” He leaned his head toward the back hall and the lab. “I’ll just let Austin know. I’ll be quick.”

“No problem.” Noah smothered a smirk. Caleb was hooked.

“Logan, I’ll call Finn and have him meet you at Caldwell’s apartment.”

“You got it, sir.”

They both turned to Em’s cell phone as it rang on her desk for the third time since she’d entered the lab.

“I’m going to answer it,” Logan said. “It’s not like her to leave her phone lying around and maybe it’s important.” He picked up the cell. “Emmy’s phone, can I help you?” His jaw tightened. “Uh-huh. Okay, hang on.” He covered the phone. “I need to run this to Em. I’ll be right back.”

Logan returned, and within a minute Caleb, Em, Austin, and Brooke exited the lab.

Noah smiled at Brooke, then turned his attention to the call Logan had taken. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Emmy said, grabbing her purse. “I got a lead on the branding from Roger, the guy I followed up with from Custom Ink.”

“Great,” Noah said. “What’d you learn?”

“Nothing yet. He invited me for happy hour at Dockside. Said we could talk then.” She tucked her phone in her purse.

“Do you think it’s wise to go alone?” Logan asked.

“It’s Dockside,” she said. “The place will be packed.”

“Be safe and keep us posted,” Noah said as she hurried for the door.

“Hey, Em,” Logan said.

“Yeah?” She turned, her fingers wrapped around the door handle.