Page 110 of You Know Why

“No idea?” Theresa prompts.

“No, Detective,” Pat says. “No idea.”

“Are we in danger?” Bob asks. “Do we need security?”

Theresa half shrugs. “I’m not going to say no, sir. I would hate to tell you everything is fine and have something happen. This man is wanted overseas, and we know he’s here in the US. I would take every precaution.”

They all stand, and Bob walks them to the office door. “Thank you for your candor. If there’s anything else we can do, please don’t hesitate. We just want Trey brought in safely. We love him, too.”

In the car, Drake and Theresa converse quietly, deciding their next steps. Drake looks up the Bandolier case. “Bandolier died on a shoot in Thiviers, France. The autopsy showed his coke was laced with fentanyl.” He raises a brow. “Knowing what we know about this Durov character, I’m going to take a leap here. Extrapolating from Gussin’s insinuation . . . Think it’s possible Brooklyn Locke gave her boss some bad junk?”

“Anything about her dad being involved with fentanyl?”

“Half that shit is laced with something. Anything’s possible.”

“And Brooklyn’s boyfriend’s name was Alex something. Think it could be Aleksey Durov?”

“Yeah. I do.”

They sit in silence for a minute.

“I want to talk to Roman Thomas myself,” he says.

“And I want to talk to Brooklyn about her time in France,” Theresa replies. “Take a run at her, see if I can scare something loose. Divide and conquer? You could drop me off at her house, it’s only a few blocks away. I can meet you afterward somewhere. Someone from the security team can drive me, or I can grab an Uber.”

“That sounds good.”

He starts the car and pulls away from the curb. The charming historical houses continue down the block, mansion after mansion, giving way to smaller but no less elegant saltboxes as they turn into the Lockes’ neighborhood.

Theresa looks over at him. “Is it my imagination, or did the Gussins push us hard in this direction?”

He swipes a hand across his hair. “It is not your imagination. After I talk to Roman, I’ll do some more digging into their statements. Something feels off, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she says, watching a young couple push a double stroller across the intersection ahead. “Yes, it does. They always have a convenient answer, don’t they?”

Drake stops the car at the light. He reaches over and takes her hand. She feels like a teenager, sitting there, holding hands with her boyfriend. And suddenly, she doesn’t want to break the connection. She lost him once before. She doesn’t want that to happen again.

“You know what? My gut says we go run this down first.”

“Stick together?”

“Safety in numbers.”

“You think we’re getting played?”

The light turns green. Theresa gently moves her thumb over his fingers. “Just in case.”

Discoveries

Brooklyn

The walk across the yard chills me to the bone. The birds are chirping, the cardinals bright against the winter boughs. Flakes of snow twirl in the air like Neve doing pirouettes across the stage. Four turns his face to the sky and catches a few on his tongue.

What I wouldn’t give for a simpler time, for the days before we tried to leave.

The shelter is cold. The power is off. I throw the switch and hear the familiar metallic clicks—flinck, flinck, flinck—as the lights turn on one by one.

I half expect Trey to jump out of the darkness and yell, “Surprise!” He’s done it before.