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“Oh, hello!” she said. “We don’t see many folks during the week at this time. Can I help you?”
“Good afternoon,” Jake said, then flashed his FBI badge. The girl’s face went white. “Is Douglas Applegate in?”
The girl shook her head, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “No, he’s not in today… can I take a message?”
“We need to see him in person,” Jake said. “Do you have his address?”
The girl nodded and quickly scribbled down Applegate’s address on a piece of paper. “Here you go,” she said, handing it to Jake. “He should be home any minute now.”
Jake thanked her and then he and Fiona were off again, this time with the address they needed. Applegate was out there, and with any luck, they’d find him soon.
***
Douglas Applegate’s house stood out from the other houses on the street. Its stucco walls were a bright pastel yellow, and its windows were adorned with bright pink shutters. Its large porch was lined with tall columns and terracotta pots filled with bougainvillea, giving it a distinctly Floridian feel. Its out-of-place architecture only added to its oddness.
Jake glanced at Fiona. She’d proven herself quick and useful when they were going up against their last suspect, but he still didn’t want to take any chances with her.
“Just—stay by my side if things get ugly,” Jake said to her.
Fiona nodded, not fighting him on it. “I will. Unless I need to run him down.” She laughed, and Jake did too. At least they could find some humor in all this chaos.
But Jake steeled himself—this was serious.
He took a deep breath and walked up the porch steps. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. Jake knocked again, his knuckles pounding against the wood—but still, there was no reply. A car was in the driveway… surely, someone was home.
“Damn,” Jake muttered.
“Maybe he went out?” Fiona asked.
“Doubt it,” Jake said. He knocked again, even louder.
Suddenly, they heard violent smashing inside. It sounded like someone was breaking something. Jake’s heart raced. He reached for his gun and stepped back, putting himself in front of Fiona in case things got ugly.
“Applegate!” he yelled, banging on the door with his fist. “This is the FBI! Open up!”
The smashing stopped abruptly and Jake heard footsteps shuffling around inside the house.Then—more smashing.
Damn it.
Looked like Jake was busting in.
“Stay back, Red,” he said, then kicked at the door with all his might. It flew open.
Jake stepped inside, gun drawn, and was met with a scene of destruction. Applegate had been running around the house, smashing vases and lamps in his path.
He kept running and running, arms outstretched, and that was when Jake realized it:
He was chasing someone.
No, not someone—something.
An animal.
A brown, furry blur sped around the living room, knocking everything in its path over.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Grab it!” Applegate yelled, and Fiona ducked as she felt wind fly over her head. Distinct monkey screeches erupted from the animal as it tore through the living room like a tornado.
