Page 26 of Isabelle’s Forbidden Love

Nelson approached. “What is it?”

“A key to a Hummer.”

“A Hummer? He doesn’t look like he can afford a Hummer.”

“My thinking exactly,” Isabelle said. “Let’s check his garage.”

Isabelle marched ahead and found the door that led from the house into the attached garage. She opened it and looked inside. A red Honda Civic was parked in the neat garage. She turned around, and almost collided with Nelson, who was looking over her shoulder into the garage.

“Sorry,” he apologized and stepped aside. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic evidence bag. “We’ll see if we can get fingerprints off of it, and I’ll contact the auto manufacturer to see if they can identify the car this key belongs to.”

He opened the plastic bag and Isabelle dropped the key into it.

“Good find!” he praised.

She nodded. “Not a lot of people drive Hummers in San Francisco. They’re not practical.” Still, she knew two men, two vampires, who drove Hummers: her godfather Zane, and Orlando.

“Yeah, some of the streets here are quite narrow,” Nelson commented.

“Well, let’s continue,” Isabelle suggested. “Kitchen?”

“Sure.”

The kitchen was in the back of the house with a door leading out into the tiny yard. Isabelle inspected the door. There was no sign of forced entry.

“Looks like somebody went through the drawers here. None of them are closed properly,” Nelson commented.

“You think the vampire might have been looking for something?”

Nelson shrugged. “Worth a shot.” He pointed to the drawers closest to the stove. “I’ll take this side, you take the other.”

Isabelle went to work. The first drawer she opened was filled with the usual junk that accumulated in every house: pens, stickers, rubber bands, batteries, and such. Nothing looked of particular interest. The drawer below was deeper and filled with mail items. She leafed through the stack. Most of it was addressed to Mr. Hong, a few items to Mrs. Hong, though they seemed to be bills for utilities and other items related to the house. She was about to close the drawer when her eyes fell on an envelope with a different address. She read it. This wasn’t addressed to Hong. This letter, which by the looks of it was a bill from an insurance company, was addressed to Orlando Carlisle.

Her heart stopped.

“Anything on your side?” Nelson asked from a few yards behind her.

“Nothing yet,” she said quickly, folded the letter clandestinely, and shoved it into her handbag. She didn’t want Nelson to see this. Not right now anyway. There had to be an innocent explanation for why a letter addressed to Orlando was amidst Hong’s own mail. Had Hong accidentally mixed it up? After all, his route was in Glen Park, so most likely Orlando’s house was on his route.

She crouched down farther and opened the last drawer on the bottom. In it were first-aid items, creams and salves for arthritis, and throat lozenges together with a half-empty bottle of cough syrup.

When she looked over her shoulder, Nelson stood right behind her.

“Just first-aid stuff here,” she said quickly and rose.

“And the other drawers?”

“The usual junk drawer. And mail. Nothing that doesn’t belong here.”

“Hmm.”

“And you?” She pointed to the other cabinets. “Anything in those drawers?”

“Just cooking utensils, pots and pans, the usual.” He shrugged. “Guess the kitchen is a bust. Bedrooms are upstairs.”

They spent another hour searching the remaining rooms and the garage, while the letter addressed to Orlando felt like it was burning a hole into her handbag. She couldn’t wait until they were done with the search and she could get a breath of fresh air.

Nelson held the evidence bag with the Hummer key up. “I’ll take this back with me to the station and see what I can find out.”