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“Thank you, Ethel. I’m Roxanne.”
The older lady said, “Second door down the hall, on the left.”
“Thanks.” Roxie headed for it and peeked in, then closed the door while still in the hallway. She kept going, easing doors open until she found the room she was looking for. Not the old lady’s bedroom, nor a storage room that had once been a place to sew.
The room she stepped into had a twin bed that had been stripped to its mattress, an aging desk tucked against the opposite wall, and a dresser covered with items that blocked the mirror, some old seventies piece of furniture that would outlive any of the new stuff.
She checked under the bed and found it clear. The desk had an ancient computer, not as much longevity as the dresser. It would probably be obsolete—the kind of thing that would make Peter wince and mutter. The kid had been spoiled by Vanguard tech.
She couldn’t carry the tower out, so she stuck in the flash drive Peter had given her. She didn’t have to touch anything or boot anything up according to his instructions. She only had to make sure the light on top flashed green. That it kept going.
When it turned red, she could remove it and be on her way.
Until then…
She leafed through desk drawers that seemed to be a catchall spot for pens, scissors, rulers, sticky notes, and several batteries in odd sizes with no matching pair. Who needed three C batteries without needing a fourth?
She found nothing taped under the drawers.
Dresser next. Roxie didn’t shift things around too much in case someone checked after she’d been in here. She found an envelope taped under the lowest drawer and tucked it into her pocket since it was only letter size.
The flash drive switched over to solid green, then turned red. Whatever that meant, it wasn’t flashing anymore, so she pulled it out and pocketed it.
She slipped back out into the hall, went in the bathroom, and flushed in case Ethel was listening for the sound of her being done. She washed her hands because who knew what germs had been on Elyan’s things.
Then she headed back to the kitchen for tea, smiling as she entered. “Thank you. I really needed to go.”
Ethel had Peter fill the teapot. “Set it on the table, dear.” She waved him over from her seat, then said, “You sit as well, dear. We’ll have a chat.”
Roxie pulled out the chair.
The doorbell rang.
“My goodness. Two visits in one day. In the same hour!”
Roxie smiled. “Would you like me to see who it is?”
“Thank you, dear.”
Peter came with her. Roxie unclipped the fastener on her gun but didn’t draw it. She kept her hand near it and opened the door.
Two uniformed patrol cops, both older, stood on the doorstep.
“Ma’am,” the one to the left said, “we’ve had reports of a disturbance at this residence. Please exit the house.”
The other said, “You, too, sir.”
“Is the resident home?” The cop reached for her arm, and Roxie pulled back. Just a protective reflex. He frowned. “Step out of the house, ma’am. Now. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Liam stepped out of the conference room, careful not to breathe a visible sigh of relief. He checked the time on his watch—time for more coffee—and headed for the break room on this floor. He’d been called in to explain what happened at Raphi’s.
Gutierrez had filed his report, including Karina’s statement. The fact it matched Liam’s statement about their visit to Obolensky played in their favor. Telling the truth always should.
He’d given the whole rundown of the relationship he’d had with Karina over the years and all the particulars of the time they’d spent together. All of it had been in public, so he had nothing to worry about. But accusations, even casual ones, always had to be followed up on for everyone’s integrity.
Not to mention that the department didn’t need any more scandals.
