“I should go in with,” Keller said. “At least I scream FBI. She won’t trust you. She probably won’t even hear you out.”
“I’ll work on the security,” Remy said. “See if I can get ears inside. If she doesn’t give you anything, we can at least hear what she has to say after you’re gone.”
I nodded. I suppose it was a good thing he came along, then.
“I’ll watch the street,” Sawyer said.
“Quite the little look-out lately,” I teased, but my tone fell flat.
Sawyer rolled his eyes at me before he pushed open the door and stepped out, heading off in whichever direction he thought was best.
“Roland?” I looked at said man as I spoke.
“I’ll keep watch from here,” he said glancing out the back of the SUV.
“Ready?” I asked Keller as I popped open the door.
He didn’t respond, but that was okay since he was at my back as I crossed the street.
I stood back as he rang the doorbell. The security camera above us caught my attention. I couldn’t make out the brand name, but I saw the logo of a bird. I made a mental note to text that to Remy when I didn’t have eyes on me.
“Hello?” an older voice floated through a speaker I could only assume was on the camera.
“Ma’am,” Keller said, pulling out his badge and holding it up to the camera. “I’m Agent Keller. We believe your family may be in danger.” He pulled his badge down but didn’t put it away.
There was a long moment of silence. Keller and I shared a look. A rush of excitement went through me as the lock turned over. My heart pounded as my hand wrapped around the handle of the handgun at my side.
A long breath left me as the door swung open to reveal a short white woman with graying black hair. Her ice-blue eyes blinked at the two of us for a moment as she wrung her hands with a kitchen towel in front of her.
“Come in,” she said after she glanced at Keller’s badge. “May I ask what is happening?”
She led us to a formal sitting room. I didn’t dare take a seat on the cream-colored sofa that was so delicate it looked like it was being held up by toothpicks.
I stared at Mrs. Lipton and tried to remind myself that she was likely innocent in all of this.
A dizzying wave hit me, scrambling my brain for a moment. I was glad Keller was doing the talking. I tried to blink it away, but my past was messing with my fucking head.
I’d been there when the FBI showed up at my house to arrest my father. When they determined my father wasn’t home and that we were telling the truth when we said he was off doing mission work in another county, they separated all of usfor questioning. The house felt too big and too small at the same time. I didn’t remember much after they told me who my father was and what they believed he’d done. But I will never forget the wail that came from my mother, and the way it echoed through the house not even sounding human.
Mrs. Lipton could have been my mother. Sitting at home while her husband was out there hurting people. Killing them.
“Austin,” Keller snapped.
My whole body jerked as I came back to reality. My eyes were wild as I looked around the room. Mrs. Lipton was nowhere to be found. Keller must have noticed my confusion, so he pointed to a mirror that was angled just right to see into the kitchen, where Mrs. Lipton appeared to be loading up a tray with lemonade.
“She said she hasn’t seen her husband in a week, but that’s typical with his work. And she had no clue about the raid we did on the house in Black Mountain,” Keller said, filling me in on what I’d missed. I sent him a grateful smile, glad that he didn’t bring up why I’d had a little freak out there.
“Does she know he works for the FBI?” I asked. Remembering the logo on the camera out front, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Remy. Hopefully, that would help if he wasn’t already in.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“And she doesn’t question where the money is coming from?” I shook my head as Keller raised a brow to convey he was thinking the same thing. Nothing against her, but I just didn’t get how she wouldn’t question even a little with the extra houses and the apartment, not to mention, how nice this house looked outside and in.
When Mrs. Lipton returned, I reached for the tray and took it from her, tipping my head when she sent me a grateful smile. She quickly pulled her trembling hands back into her body,wringing them again, only this time without the towel. I set the tray down on an intricately carved oak sideboard.
“Can you explain to me what’s going on?” she asked as she filled two glasses before handing them to us.
I kept my mouth shut. Something told me to let Keller handle most of this. He likely had more training when it came to these types of situations.
