Lynette Eason

Trail Of Evidence


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flooded him. He’d pushed too hard, too fast. He was coming across desperate and it wasn’t that; he just had questions. Questions that would have to wait. “No problem.”

      Once she finished going through the house, she let Mercy out the door the intruder had exited. Mercy trotted down the street, nose alternating between the ground and the air. She stopped several houses down and sat.

      Brooke called to her and Mercy hurried to her side. “She’s lost the scent. Most likely the guy had a car waiting right where Mercy sat down. He climbed in and off they went.”

      He nodded. He’d expected as much. He handed her the phone. “The battery is at two percent. It won’t last much longer. There may be a charger in his room. I didn’t think to look.”

      She studied it. “It’s fine. Chargers are easy to come by.” She looked up. “Did you find a wallet belonging to Rosa?”

      “No. Just the phone.”

      “I hate to ask this, but...” She looked uncomfortable.

      “What?”

      “Well, Rosa’s wallet was missing, too. Do you think Felix could have hurt Rosa to get her phone and wallet?”

      Jonas stepped back, her words hurting more than if she’d slapped him. “What? No. Of course not.” He raked a hand through his hair, hating the flash of doubt that raced through him. He lifted his chin. “No. He’s a thirteen-year-old boy, he’s not perfect. And I mean he’s been getting in some trouble lately, but that’s just because he’s never gotten over his mother’s leaving, never truly accepted the fact that she would do that. He’d never hurt—kill—someone over a stupid phone.” Anger flared.

      She held up a hand. “Just had to ask. And I didn’t necessarily mean that he killed her on purpose. It could have been an accident and he was too scared to tell anyone what happened.”

      “No, no way. Absolutely not.” She nodded, her eyes on his. The anger fizzled as fast as it had flamed. “I understand why you might ask that, but no. It’s not possible. If something like that had happened, Felix would have come to me.” Wouldn’t he?

      “Then how did the phone wind up under his mattress two months after its owner was found murdered?”

      The question hit him hard. He swallowed. “I don’t know, but I know we have to find out.”

      “We need to talk to Felix.”

      She held the phone up. “We need to turn this in, too.” She headed to the bedroom door when Jonas heard a loud roar and felt the house rock beneath his feet.

      * * *

      Mercy barked. Brooke fell to her knees. She thought she heard Jonas calling to her just before something struck her shoulder, her leg, her cheek. Pain lanced through her. “Get out! We have to get out.”

      Jonas’s hand wrapped her upper arm. She realized he’d fallen, too; he’d just recovered faster than she. Smoke seared her lungs, but nothing felt hot.

      “Are you all right?” Jonas coughed as he pulled her toward the door.

      “Fine. Mercy, heel!” The dog slunk on her belly to Brooke’s side. She pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth. Jonas did the same. She grabbed one of Felix’s shirts from his bed and wrapped it around the animal’s mouth and nose, leaving it loose enough for her to breathe while filtering the smoke.

      “Smoke is rolling in fast,” he said.

      “Do you see any flames?”

      “No. Let me lead you, I know the layout.” He coughed and together they made their way down the stairs, ready to turn and flee back up at the first sign of fire. Finally, they hit the bottom of the steps. Jonas led her toward the door. Mercy hugged her side and she kept one hand on the head of her faithful friend.

      Jonas opened the door and she yanked him back in to slam it. Her shoulder throbbed with the movement.

      “What are you doing?” he asked.

      “Do you have a back door?”

      “Yes.”

      “Let’s use that.”

      She could barely see his puzzled expression, but gave silent thanks that he didn’t argue with her, just kept his firm grip on her good arm and led her toward the back of the house and into a sunroom. Her leg throbbed, but nothing was broken and she moved through the house with minimal pain.

      Smoke still filled the air, but she could breathe much better here. He opened the door and they stepped out into the night. Fresh air hit her and she sucked in a deep breath even as her mind spun. She pulled her arm free, then slid her hand down to wrap her fingers around his. “Come on,” she croaked.

      They raced away from the house, her leg protesting the movement, but nothing bad enough to stop her from getting to safety. Sirens already sounded and Brooke suspected one of the neighbors had heard the blast and called 911. Jonas had a nice fenced-in yard that backed up to his neighbor’s. They moved to the edge of the property.

      Brooke turned to see smoke billowing from the den window, but no flames. “I’m going to see if I can spot anyone trying to get away from the house.” She took off with Mercy at her heels. Jonas’s protest registered, but she needed to see. Rounding the corner of the house, she stopped and looked up and down the street. Neighbors stood on their porches and some in the street as they watched the commotion. The first fire truck screamed to a stop at the curb. Brooke’s gaze bounced from person to person. Curiosity and concern graced the faces of the onlookers. No one seemed particularly satisfied.

      Jonas stepped up beside her. “See anything?”

      “No. Do you see anyone who shouldn’t be here? Anyone you don’t recognize?”

      “I’m...um...probably not the best person to ask.”

      “Why?”

      “Because I’m a lousy neighbor.” He gave an embarrassed shrug. “I work and I spend time with Felix—when he lets me anyway. I hate yard maintenance so I hire someone to do it.”

      “Which means you’re not working in the yard and talking with people out for an evening or weekend walk.”

      “Exactly.”

      She nodded and approached the fire captain. “We were in that house. We’re fine. There’s no one else inside.”

      The man turned, his concerned gaze landing on the two of them. “Are you sure?”

      “Positive.”

      One of the firemen stepped out the front door and motioned to one of his buddies. “Captain?”

      “Yeah.”

      Jonas and Brooke moved closer. Mercy stayed by her side. Brooke wanted to hear what was said.

      “It was a Molotov cocktail. When it was tossed through the window, it landed in the fireplace.” The man shook his head. “Never seen anything like it. There’s a lot of smoke, but not any fire damage to speak of. Looks like it wasn’t meant to burn, just cause a lot of smoke.”

      Jonas breathed out. Brooke laid a hand on his forearm. He looked at her. “You’re right,” he said. “They came back.”

      Brooke pulled the cell phone Jonas had found from her pocket. “I think it’s time to ask Felix where he got this phone and who knows he has it.” She switched to her business phone. “And we’re going to get someone to watch your house tonight. I don’t think we were smoked out by accident. Whoever threw that in there knew what they were doing. It’s possible they plan to come back and search the place.”

      “So then I’m not sleeping here.”

      “Not with the smoke and the danger. You’re going someplace safe.”