Page 84 of Colton’s Inferno

She slipped her foot into the other shoe and tied the laces. “I need to do this on my own. But thank you for offering.”

She rose from the sofa and kissed his cheek. Then, she was gone. It took Aiden only a few minutes to clean up everything from breakfast. And now he had the whole day ahead of him. He understood the need for rest after a concussion. It was just that all his symptoms had subsided after the first few days. Now he had another week of nothing to do.

His phone started to ring, the tinny trill filling his apartment. Aiden wiped his hands on a cloth and walked to his bedroom. His phone, still charging, sat on the bedside table. He glanced at the screen. The caller ID read Callum Colton.

He reached for the phone just as the ringing stopped. Aiden used the missed call notification to dial his brother’s number.

“Hey,” said Callum. “Where are you?”

“At my apartment. Where would I be?”

“Meet me outside in two minutes. I’m on my way.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“I just heard from the lab in Bismarck. They were able to find a partial fingerprint on the lock.”

After unplugging his phone, Aiden turned on the speaker function. “Was it enough to get an ID?” he asked, pulling open a dresser drawer.

“It was.”

His heart slammed into his chest. “Are you going to tell me who it is? Or do I have to wait until you get here?”

For a moment, the line was silent.

“You still there?” he asked, while pulling out a shirt from the open drawer.

“Stu,” said Callum.

For a single breath, he thought there’d been a glitch in the line. Then, like he’d slammed into a brick wall, he stumbled back. “Stu Whittier’s prints were on the lock?” Several puzzle pieces clicked into place. “Lucy told me that he offered to buy her land a while back.”

“Stu’s a criminal, that’s for sure. But it’s all been petty stuff. He doesn’t have that kind of money.”

“According to Lucy, he was making an offer on behalf of his boss.”

Callum asked, “Did he name his employer?”

Aiden paused and tried to remember everything Lucy had said. “I don’t think so. Or if he did, she didn’t say anything to me.”

And then, another memory came back. He was driving toward the Five Steers Ranch. Rain beat on his windshield. He passed another car that was in the other lane. It had been a white sedan. At the time, it hadn’t set off any alarm bells. But now, a claxon rang in his head. “I think I saw Stu driving away from the ranch the day of the gas leak.”

“I’m almost to your place. You can fill me in on everything then.” The phone beeped as Cal disconnected the call.

Aiden donned his shirt and slipped on socks and shoes. He also took a minute to brush his teeth. A shower would have to wait. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he took the steps to the street level two at a time. He opened the door to the sidewalk and stepped outside. Callum pulled up next to the curb.

His brother rolled down the passenger window of his cruiser. Leaning across the center console, he called out. “Get in.”

He pulled on the handle, opening the door. A file sat in the seat. He picked up the folder and slid into the car.

“Check that out.” Cal tapped the file.

Clipped to the back cover was a stack of papers. The first was a digitized copy of a fingerprint, along with a report. He scanned the statement. The crime lab was able to get a partial print from the lock, just like Cal had said. The print was then sent to the FBI’s Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, or IAFIS for short. From there, they were traced to one Stuart Whittier of Red Grove, North Dakota.

The rest of the pages were information about Stu. His arrest record. Time served in jail. Current address.

“Looks like he’s still living at home.” Cal pulled onto Main Street. “Or that’s the address on his driver’s license, at least.” He stopped at a traffic light. “The earlier we can get there, the more likely we are to find him at home.”

Aiden looked at the address once more. It was less than five minutes to Stu’s house by car. The time on the dashboard clock read 6:42 a.m. “He’ll be home.”