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It’s the kitchen. And there’s a smell of rot and must that hits me like a fist in the chest. It’s all I can do not to cough as we tread through the space littered with trash. There’s a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, and flies buzzing over them.
Fuck.
There’s a sick feeling in my stomach as we enter the living room we’d glimpsed through the windows at the front and walk among piles of trash.
Either the guy is long gone, or there’s something seriously wrong with his mind. I’d go with the latter, but trash left to rot isn’t proof of criminal activity, unfortunately.
As we trudge through the first floor rooms, climb upstairs to have a look at the small attic and climb back down, it looks more and more like the guy is indeed gone. Like, for good.
The house looks as if it has been abandoned for a while. Days, at least. Perhaps he did see Zane and decided to leave town just in case?
Weird, though.
Unless he really has something to hide.
But what? And where?
Megan shoots me a troubled glance, and I walk over to where she’s been rifling through a drawer to stroke her face.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She nods against my hand. “We won’t find anything, will we?”
I stroke her chin. “We’re not done looking yet.”
“He wouldn’t leave anything incriminating lying around. If he was so stupid, he’d have been caught long ago.”
Or he doesn’t think we can find the evidence. Hidden in plain sight, maybe. Disguised as something else, or kept in a place we haven’t discovered yet.
But despite the insistent feeling of disquiet screaming in my mind as we sweep every corner, we find nothing, and about an hour later, we walk out and close the kitchen door behind us.
***
We’re all quiet.
I suck in the clear, fresh night air and glance back at the house.
This was a bust. A fucking bust, and that was my last idea.
My head hurts. My mind echoes, blank. This whole charade, this whole stupid break in was for nothing. I can’t even bring myself to look at Zane and Dakota who’re walking slowly around the house, toward the street, their steps dragging.
See, I was right earlier. I’ve failed them. Spectacularly.
I kick at the dry leaves littering the yard and wish I were at the gym with a punching bag to let my frustration out. If we leave now, I doubt we’re ever coming back. This was it, the one chance to solve this mystery.
“Come over to our place,” Erin says. “We live closest. There we can talk.”
“About what?” Zane grinds out, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He’s gazing somewhere off to the left, but I doubt he’s actually seeing anything. “Filed the report. Broke into his house. Didn’t find shit. We’re done.”
Though I agree with him, I nod at Erin. “Let’s go, man. We can sit there in quiet for a while before we go pick up the kids. We need a break after this shit.”
The stench of the house is clinging to my clothes, to my skin. It’s as if I can still smell it, and it almost makes me retch.
Dakota looks up at Zane. “Just for an hour. Drink some tea, warm up.” The hands she lifts to Zane’s shoulders are shaky, and he seems to notice, too.
“Okay,” he says finally, wrapping his arms around her. “Let’s go for a while.”
We walk together toward the street, a brooding, quiet group, our soles crunching on the accumulated litter.
