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"Hi, Dad," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady."I just got off the phone with Doug Fallow.You asked him to look into why I wasn't able to speak with Rayland Bax, remember?"
"Ah, yes," Gabriel said, a hint of warmth in his otherwise gruff tone."What did he find out?"
"Apparently the reason I wasn't able to speak with Rayland is that he's an FBI informant."
There was a long pause."Dad?"she asked."You still there?"
"Unbelievable," he muttered.
"I know," Sheila said, feeling a wave of anger wash over her."It complicates things even more."
"But it also makes sense now why the warden ran interference," Gabriel said, his voice now tinged with bitterness."Did Doug say anything else?"
"He told me I need to speak with Agent Mitchell Collins if I want permission to meet with Rayland.He's Rayland's handler."
"Collins?"Gabriel scoffed, his disdain evident even over the phone."That son of a gun."
"You know him?"
"We've crossed paths before, and believe me when I tell you, he never wanted to cooperate on cases.Always tried to keep us local law enforcement out of the loop, like we were beneath him or something."
"Really?"Sheila asked, her heart sinking."So what are the chances he'd be willing to help me?"
"Not good, sweetheart," Gabriel said, his voice gentler now."But don't let that discourage you.There's always another way."
Sheila clenched her jaw, frustration bubbling within her."What other way?"
He sighed."I don't know yet.Just give me some time to think it over, okay?Then we can come up with a game plan together."
"Alright," she said, though inwardly she hated the idea of waiting any longer.
"Hey, have you heard from Natalie yet?"Gabriel asked, concern evident in his rough voice.
Sheila sighed, rubbing her forehead."No, Dad, not a word.I've been trying to call her all day.It's not like her to just vanish without telling anyone."
Her father was silent for moments."Now that I think about it," he said, "she did message me the other day about being burned out.She said she needed some space, something about a 'fresh perspective.'That's probably all this is, just her needing some time alone."
"Maybe," Sheila said, but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong."Shouldn't we file a missing persons report, though?Just in case?"
"Let's give her till the end of the day," Gabriel said, his tone cautious."If she hasn't turned up by then, we'll get others involved.I don't want to bother her if she really does just need some R&R."
"Alright, Dad.I'll let you know if I hear anything."Sheila could feel the worry gnawing at her insides, but she tried to keep her voice steady for her father's sake.
"Take care, Sheila.And keep your chin up—we'll find a way to get to Rayland, one way or the other."
"Of course, Dad.Talk to you later."With a soft click, Sheila ended the call and slid her phone into her pocket.
As she paced back and forth in her small apartment, thoughts raced through her mind.The investigation into her mother's murder seemed to be at a dead end, and now, with Natalie gone, the weight on her shoulders grew heavier.But Sheila Stone was not one to back down from a challenge, even when the odds were against her.
The agent Doug had mentioned might not be willing to help her, but Sheila was determined to find a way around that obstacle.She glanced around her apartment, her eyes landing on the set of keys hanging by the door.Her decision made, she grabbed them and headed out, her jaw set with resolve.
She was going to confront Mitchell Collins.If he wanted to deny her the chance to learn who had murdered her mother and why, he would have to do so to her face.She wasn't going to make it easy for him.
The sun bore down mercilessly as she strode across the hot asphalt of the parking lot, her keys jangling with each determined step.Her fingers wrapped around the door handle of her car, but she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steel herself for the confrontation ahead.It was then that her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Her heart lurched at the sight of a text from Natalie.There was a single word, pregnant with ambiguity.
'Sorry.'
Sheila's brow furrowed as she quickly typed out a response.What do you mean?Where are you?
"Come on, Nat," she muttered under her breath, but no immediate reply came.With growing concern, Sheila dialed Natalie's number.The phone rang and rang unanswered, leaving Sheila standing in the sweltering heat, her worry intensifying with each passing second.
"Damn it, Natalie," she whispered, ending the call.What did Natalie have to be sorry for?Being hard to reach?Dodging Sheila's calls?
Or was there something far worse?
