Page 78 of Breathe Me In

“Okay.” I repeated their names in my head.

“Keep me in the know.”

“Copy that.” I hung up and decided I wanted Bree along. Ten minutes later I banged on her door.

“Bree!” I called out. “Open the door.”

The door flew open, and her face scowled. “Brad, for heaven’s sake. What are you doing here?”

“Get dressed.”

She leaned to the side and looked around me, then spotted the dirty side of my car from my earlier chase. “What happened to your car?”

“I’ll explain. Just get dressed.”

“Why?”

“We’re headed to Colville.” I told her a few details on the chase, but left out Rodger Gumbo’s name.

Bree balanced her coffee in her hand as I held the door open for her. Once I showed my badge to the officer at the front desk and explained, she waved us through.

“Old files are stored downstairs, second door on the left. Knock yourselves out.” She turned back to her laptop.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Concern was written on Bree’s face, and if I hadn’t been so focused, I’d have relished the feeling that she cared. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away.”

“I was trying to give you space.”

She let the topic go and dumped her big purse on the table, then followed me through the rows of stacked boxes. “Okay, well what are the odds this isn’t a wild goose chase?”

“You of all people understand a gut feeling.” I scanned the scribbles of dates and names in marker. “I just think we need to check it out.”

“All right, let’s do this.” She headed for the other side of the shelf, and we started to hunt. We stopped for a short break about an hour later to clear our heads but jumped back into it. Any clue that might give us something would be worth finding.

“Got it!” I yelled and pulled out a box and hauled it over to the table. I quickly went through the case files and pulled out the one I wanted.

“Oh shit”—Bree leaned over and held up a photo of young Johnny on a red bike—“he was so young.” I looked away. No matter how many cases I dealt with, kids were the worst.

“Here it is.” She moved closer as she read it out loud. “‘Johnny Cleveland, age eleven, was playing with a friend in his mother’s greenhouse when he inhaled something made from some kind of plant.’ She swore she’d never seen it before and had no idea how he found it. There was an inquiry, but she was cleared.”

“What do they say was the type of plant?” I waited for her to discover it.

“Um . . .” She ran her finger along the page, then stilled. “Oh my god, Brad.” She pointed to the name. “‘Butterfly root moss’! Do you think the mom might have something to do with our case? Like revenge on the girls or something?”

“I’m not sure of that”—I slid the file out of her hands—“but I’m interested to know why he died and not his friend.” She stepped closer, and I tried to ignore the goose bumps her silky hair brought up on my arm as we both sifted through more paperwork.

“There’s nothing here on the other kid, except that they kept his name out of it to protect him from the media.”

“Mrs. Cleveland moved after her son’s death”—she held up a handwritten note from Detective Sanders—“which is not surprising.”

“No, it isn’t. More times than not, the family moves to get away from the attention.” I snapped a few photos of the file and sent it to Adam to dig a little more. “Let’s go check out the place. It’s not far.” We tucked everything back inside the box and replaced it on the shelf.

The Clevelands’ old house was on the outskirts of Colville. We parked outside the address and looked around. It was a rather dull-looking street. We approached the gate, and I pulled back the rusty latch on the chain-link fence and let Bree go first down the path toward the house. I scanned the windows for any sign that someone was home, but no car was in the driveway, so I wasn’t optimistic.

“Ready?” she asked, and I reached over and rang the doorbell.

“Police department, anyone home?” I called out. I rang the bell again, then knocked loudly.

“Excuse me, Officers,” a woman called from next door, “if you’re looking for Mr. Gee, he won’t be home until tomorrow. He’s off visiting his daughter.”