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"Murder?"Nick's voice cracked, the word catching in his throat. He stared at Lisa, thecolor draining from his face. "You didn't say anything about amurderer."
Lisasighed her expression a mix of concern and irritation. "I wanted youfocused, not scared out of your wits. You're still new to this, Nick, andthere's no point in psyching yourself out before we even get started."
"Great,"Nick muttered, his eyes darting around the desolate street as he tried to quellthe rising panic in his chest. "Just great."
"Look,just take a deep breath, okay?" Lisa said, trying to sound reassuring."We've got each other's backs. We'll be fine."
"Easyfor you to say," Nick grumbled under his breath, but he did as shesuggested, inhaling deeply and trying to steady his frayed nerves.
"Comeon," Lisa said, nodding towards the house. "Let's get this overwith."
Theirfootsteps crunched on the gravel driveway as they approached the suspect'shome, its peeling paint and sagging porch a testament to years of neglect. Thesun cast long shadows across the yard, and Nick couldn't shake the feeling thatunseen eyes were watching them.
As Lisaraised her hand to knock on the door, Nick felt his heart race, pounding in hisears like a drumbeat. He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the urge toturn and run. This was his job, after all. He couldn't back down now.
"Heregoes nothing," Lisa murmured, rapping sharply on the weathered wood. Theywaited, the seconds stretching into an eternity, but there was no response.Just as when they'd tried to call earlier, the house remained silent, itssecrets locked away behind the door.
"Guesswe're doing this the hard way," Lisa muttered, exchanging a glance withNick before stepping back and preparing to force their way inside. Nick couldonly nod, his throat dry, as he braced himself for what was to come.
Thequiet afternoon air hung heavy around them, charged with tension andanticipation. As they moved to kick in the door, Nick knew that beyond it lay adarkness they couldn't predict. But there was no choice now; they had to facewhatever waited for them inside.
Just asNick was about to voice his concerns, a faint shuffling sound reached theirears, emanating from within the house. His heart skipped a beat, and heexchanged an alarmed glance with Lisa.
"Didyou hear that?" he whispered, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.
"Staysharp," she cautioned in response, her eyes narrowing as she carefullyunholstered her weapon. "Something's definitely going on in there."
Nickfollowed suit, his palms slick with sweat as he gripped the cold metal of hisgun. A creeping dread gnawed at the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't helpbut wonder what kind of nightmare they were about to uncover. He'd knownbecoming a cop would come with some risks, but right now, it felt way too real.
"Ready?"Lisa asked, her gaze never leaving the door. He nodded, swallowing hard againstthe fear that threatened to choke him.
"Let'sdo it."
Withone powerful kick, Lisa sent the door flying open, revealing the dark maw ofthe house beyond. They rushed in, guns raised, voices raised in unison.
"Police!Hands where we can see them!"
Thewords echoed through the dimly lit interior, bouncing off peeling wallpaper andworn-down floorboards. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, the sight thatgreeted them was not one of horror or bloodshed but rather one of squalor anddespair.
There,slumped against a cracked and stained wall, sat Magnus Weber.
The manwas a mess, drunk and incoherent; his eyes glazed over with a toxic mix ofalcohol and anger. Empty bottles littered the floor around him, a testament tohis self-destructive spiral.
"Getup!" Lisa barked, her voice firm and authoritative. "You're underarrest, Weber. Don't make this worse for yourself."
"Wha--"The man stammered, his gaze darting between them as he tried to make sense ofthe situation. "You can't... I didn't do anythin'."
"Saveit for the judge," she snapped, cuffing him as Nick kept his weapontrained on the suspect.
As Lisaled the now-detained Magnus Weber out of the house, Nick couldn't help but feela rush of relief. They had done their job, and perhaps in some small way, theyhad saved this man from himself. But as he glanced back at the shadowyinterior, a chill raced down his spine, an unshakable sense of unease thatlingered long after they left the scene.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thefaint stench of stale coffee and sweat hung in the air as Jake stood by Fionain the dimly lit precinct, watching her frantically flip through case files. Hecould see the tension building in her furrowed brow, that familiar determinedglint in her amber eyes. She had lobbied hard for this case, and he knew shedidn't want to let Chief Whittaker down.
Jakedidn't either. After his track record, he knew the chief's expectations were ashigh as the expectations he had for himself. Failure was not an option, evenwhen it felt like all odds were stacked against him.
They'dbeen doing more research on the exhibit and all those associated with it asJake waited the call from Nevada. He prayed they had some luck and Magnus Webercould be their man. Even if he was back in Nevada, it was possible he haddriven down since the murder yesterday.
