Page 122 of The Deadly Shallows

“Like Noah said, be safe.”

She nodded, and a brisk wind blew in as she exited.

Caleb climbed from his Forester after parking outside of Lieutenant Chris Malone’s apartment complex. Three stories. Brick with black iron balconies. Rissi pulled up beside him and cut her engine. He climbed out and moved around the parked cars to meet her at the sidewalk’s edge. When he’d told Austin that he could ask Noah about her riding with him and Rissi on the call, she’d told him that wasn’t necessary, which sounded absolutely unlike Austin. Add in that glint in her eye . . . she was most definitely up to something, but what? And more importantly, was she being safe?

“Malone lives in 2A,” he said. His full attention fixed to their detail, he held the metal door open for Rissi, then followed her inside.

“How do you want to play this?” he asked as they rounded the second floor.

“I’ll knock. You cover,” Rissi said as they approached Malone’s door.

Caleb positioned himself at Rissi’s nine—out of the line of sight of the door—his gun aimed at where it would open.

Rissi knocked. “Lieutenant Malone,” she called.

Only a soft creaking sound whispered from inside.

Rissi knocked again, holding her badge up to the peephole. “Malone. It’s Special Agent Rissi Dawson. We had an appointment.”

Nothing but the creaking.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Rissi whispered.

Caleb exhaled. “That makes two of us.”

“On three,” she said, then kicked in the door.

He followed, covering her.

Lieutenant Malone hung from a rope around his neck, a chair flat on the floor behind him.

Noah’s cell rang. “Hey, Caleb.”

“It appears Malone hung himself. We found him with a noose around his neck, a chair kicked out from under him.”

“I’ll call Finn, see if they located Caldwell, and have him head your way. Is there a suicide note?”

“No, sir. Hadley’s on his way here now.”

“Okay, ask him to give me a call when he’s headed back to the morgue with Malone, so I can meet him there. My gut says there’s more to this than a suicide.”

“Mine as well.”

Disconnecting the call, Noah rang Finn. He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Finn. Any luck finding Lieutenant Caldwell?”

“No. I think she took off in a hurry. She took some clothing, toiletries, etc., but pretty much everything else is still here, like she just left for a quick vacation. But considering the circumstances, I’m guessing it’s more than that. Logan found an interesting photograph stuck between the pages of a magazine.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m looking at Caldwell with her arm around Scott Mirch.”

Noah’s brows hiked. Scott Mirch was personally connected to Lieutenant Caldwell, a member of the team developing a laser. “Why does this guy’s name keep popping up?”

“Was just thinking that myself,” Finn said. “The next guy in the photograph looks a lot like the man we know as Dwayne, and his name is confirmed by a notation on the back.”

Thank you, Lord. They were finally getting somewhere.

“There are two more men. One looks like he could be Scott Mirch’s brother or some relation. The picture’s back indicates his name is John. And the last guy looks twenty-some years older than Mirch, but here comes the good part . . .”