“Are you working now?” she questioned.
“I am. I have a meeting with someone,” I responded, as I stepped out of my truck and began walking across the parking lot, past the stores, to a short pathway that I knew led to the neighborhood on the other side of the strip mall.
“Okay, then I’ll talk to you later. Be safe.”
I smiled, something in my chest warming over her concern. “I will.”
After hanging up the phone, I tucked it into the pocket of the jogging pants I wore. I’d intentionally wore this outfit to look like I was a guy out for a run around his neighborhood. Once I crossed a couple of blocks into the community, I pulled out the kit I used to pick locks. I’d memorized the address I was going to by heart and had Bass disarm the alarm system that was attached to the house, earlier in the day.
Walking up to the front door, I was quickly able to pick the lock and gain access to the empty house. I checked my watch and saw that I had about fifteen minutes before the owner arrived home for the evening. Over the past few days, I had the twins checking the history of the alarm system and video feed from the house to learn the owner’s movements. Since Lee Richards chose not to return Leona’s calls, it was time I visited his ass.
That day he’d be alone at the house, since his kids were with his ex for the night.
Richard was the reporter that’d written both of the articles Jodi found in her grandfather’s tin. After reading each piece a few different times, I had Leona reach out to the reporter to set up a meeting. The reports had been very light in detail regarding the missing girl, which I found odd. While not explicitly written, each article heavily implied that the girl was nothing more than a runaway.
I moved through Richards’ home easily, already knowing the layout well. From the days I’d seen, he usually entered his house somewhere between 5:15 and 5:30. He then would go straight to his office on the first floor, dropping off whatever materials he had for work before moving to his bedroom on the second floor.
Posting up in his office, I’d catch him as soon as he got in. Taking a seat in the chair behind his desk, I lifted my legs, placing them on the wooden counter and crossing them at the ankles. I sat back but not before adjusting the band around my waist that tightly held the nine millimeter I’d brought with me. Not that I thought I’d need it for Richards, but some guys liked to get weird when you dropped in on them like this.
I glanced around, noting the closed blinds to the office that prevented anyone from seeing out of or into the house. Richards kept it like this, from what I’d seen. I shook my head at the stupidity.
The wait wasn’t too long as I went over the information I was seeking to gain from this guy. I’d looked into him and found out he’d been a reporter for a county-run newspaper for about ten years now. He hadn’t moved up in his career much, which was noteworthy considering the size of his house. The home fell just under four thousand square feet, on a property that was slightly over one and a half acres. Even with the relatively low cost real estate prices, a reporter’s salary couldn’t hack it.
I had Sy look into his finances. What I found was pretty interesting.
I stilled when I heard a car pulling into the driveway. Glancing up at the clock, I saw that it was 5:23.
“Right on time.”
The sound of the garage door opening filled the hallway. A few minutes later, the door from the garage into the house opened and closed. I relaxed my body entirely as his footsteps against the hardwood floor grew louder.
“Oh my god,” he bellowed as soon as he opened the door to his office and saw me sitting there. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house? Get out,” he demanded.
Frowning, I cocked my head to the side. “So many questions. All of which could’ve been answered or avoided if you’d returned my damn calls.”
His bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. “Who are you?”
“Too late. I’m asking the questions now.”
“I’m calling the police.”
I sighed as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Put your phone away.”
“You’ve got one minute before I call.”
“Are you planning on telling them about the kickbacks you’ve been getting not to write certain stories?”
That got his full attention. He sputtered a bit.
“I’ll take that as a no. Like I said, put your phone down. As a matter of fact, put it on the desk.”
I started to get impatient when he hesitated. Leaning forward, I removed the gun holstered to my waist. I guessed I would need it after all.
“Look, I didn’t come here to bullshit with you, and I damn sure don’t plan on being here all night,” I said, pointing the gun at him. “Put your damn phone on the desk.”
He took a tentative step forward, then another, until he reached the desk, placing it down.
