“Scarlett,” I reply, beaming with pride. “Yeah, she’s incredible. Way too smart for her own good, but also extremely talented.” My family is my favorite topic to speak on. Once I get going, it’s damn near impossible to stop. I just love them so much.
“Did you know she got accepted into the best art school in the country?” I remember her cries of elation as she showed me and Colletta her acceptance email. It was the best day of my life because I knew all the sacrifices my wife made and my time away from home, working my ass off, was worth it to give her everything she could ever dream of. But it was also the day my heart cracked.
I wasn’t going to have my little girl at home with me anymore. She was becoming a brilliant, talented young woman, and this was her chance to thrive in the world. My Scarlett Emilia was destined to create beauty and nothing, and no one would hold her back from that, including me.
“Yeah, I believe I overheard her talking about it with another student of mine, Chris Merdova, and his cousin, Marie. She received an art scholarship there, and they were excited not to start alone.”
Theodore Ellis has been the perfect person of interest from the first moment we met. His tone is soft but firm, always kind and polite without appearing like a fraud. Even under the brutal, accusatory questioning, he hasn’t lost his calm, relaxed demeanor.Not until now.
It's subtle and easily overlooked if you don’t have a seasoned, trained ear. But when he mentioned the conversation between Scarlett and the boy, Chris, Mr. Ellis almost sounded angry. I try to make sense of it, but I don’t understand. What about those two could upset him?
I’m just about to question it, when my partner, Rubio, comes hopping down the stairs. In his hands are three laptops. Placing them down on the coffee table, he asks, “Mr. Ellis, could you identify these and whose they are for me, please?”
Pushing off the wall, Theodore examines them closely. They all appear nearly identical, but he points out his almost instantly.
“The other two must be Beth’s, but I’ve only ever seen her use that one,” he says, pointing to the computer in the middle.
Nodding, Rubio collects the two under his arm. “We have a warrant on the way to search the home thoroughly, but for now, is it okay if we take these in for examination? Or do I need to come back in a few hours?”
“Umm... sure. Go ahead,” Mr. Ellis says, looking slightly uneasy as he stares at the mystery computer.
What is it, Mr. Ellis? What are you hiding? What don’t you want us to see?
It won’t be today that we find out. More than likely, we’ll obtain the warrant first thing in the morning since the judge is on vacation. That’s no problem. It’ll give him more time to squirm out of his skin with nerves.
After placing the computers in baggies and putting them in the trunk of our vehicle, we take our search to the back.
Whistling, I remark, “This is an impressive amount of land, Mr. Ellis. If you don’t mind me asking, how does a teacher and COO afford something so… enormous?”
Stepping beside me, he stares out at his plot, taking in the hundreds of trees before muttering, “We come from money, Detective Dane. That’s it… There’s nothing special about it.”
There it is again, that underlying hint of aggression. Butwhy?To have something so beautiful, why not seem proud of it?
After a couple of hours of searching, we say our goodbyes, promising to get in touch soon before driving away from his luxurious property.
Rubio and I are quiet on the drive. It isn’t until we’re well beyond his home that he asks, “What do you think about this guy? Everything seem right to you?”
Taking my time to answer, I think over everything I know so far.
“Yes.”
And that’s the problem.
Noah Dane
CHAPTER XXXVI
I know something is wrong the moment I step into the office the following afternoon.All eyes are on me, and unlike how they were when I first transferred here, it’s not in welcome.
I sense their hesitation to meet my gaze, their discomfort when I offer my hellos and good mornings. Everyone does their best to hide it, but it's no easy feat. I hear it in their tone, spot it in their hunched spines.
Apprehension and foreboding slither across my skin, and by the time I make it to my desk, my body is vibrating with what’s to come.
“Hey, Noah. How are you?” Rachel asks, not meeting my stare as she sets a coffee down at my station. That small act sets my teeth on edge, not because it isn’t a kind gesture, but because she’s never done it before.
Unable to take this tension any longer, I crack, “Rachel, what the hell is going on? Why is everybody staring at me like I grew five fucking heads overnight?”
Rachel is one of the best detectives I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. She’s many things, smart, sassy, suave, but she does not stutter. So why the fuck is she now?
