When Landon finished checking out the two-bedroom apartment, he found Raquelle standing in the doorway, looking shell-shocked as she took in the mess before her. “Eddie’s not here,” he told her, as if this would somehow appease her, given what she was looking at. “So don’t come any further, as this has to be considered a crime scene now—”
Raquelle peered at him but did move an inch. “Who did this, Landon?” she demanded. “I need to know what’s going on with my brother, as you obviously do.” Her tone lowered an octave. “Please…”
Between the mesmerizing glint in her brown eyes, a pout on those full lips, and the stark realization that this was not something he could keep from Raquelle any longer,he was feeling contrite that her brother’s life might well be hanging in the balance.
Landon met her at the door. “I need to call this in,” he said. He wanted to get the investigation rolling in what was clearly a felony breaking and entering, based on the damage, and overlapped between local and federal jurisdiction, under the circumstances. “Then we can talk in your car.”
Chapter Three
Raquelle regarded Landon, ill at ease, as she sat behind the wheel of her Infiniti Q50 and waited to hear what he had to say about her brother’s worrying situation.
After taking a breath, Landon met her eyes squarely and said in a measured tone of voice, “Eddie’s been working undercover for the FBI—actually me—as a confidential human source, or confidential informant…”
Her lashes fluttered with surprise. “He what?”
“He’s my CI,” Landon reiterated briefly. “Eddie’s been providing crucial information on an art-theft-and-counterfeit-art ring I’m investigating.”
Raquelle understood this. After all, she’d been married to the man and knew some of the lingo and requirements of the job. But that didn’t make hearing that he had involved Eddie in something obviously dangerous any easier to digest. “Why would he work for you—at risk to his own safety?” Though she knew that her brother dabbled in the art world, selling some Native American art he was able to acquire from time to time, that was still a stretch from becoming her ex’s CI. She needed to hear more.
As though reading her mind and anxieties, Landon leaned forward and said flatly, “Eddie was under investigationfor selling forged art. Rather than go after him—something that I didn’t have the power to simply sweep under the rug, even if I’d wanted to—I asked Eddie instead to become my CI. Knowing that he had the ins to some bad guys involved in the murky world of art crimes, it was a win-win. He wouldn’t end up being charged and, most likely, convicted and forced to spend time behind bars—and the Art Crime Team, which I’ve spent the last three years working for with the Bureau, would use what Eddie provided to build our case and put those under investigation away for a long stretch.”
Raquelle wrinkled her nose at him and asked irrationally, “Couldn’t you have picked someone else to do your dirty work other than my own brother?”
“It wasn’t a question of choice per se but opportunity and timing.” Landon moved uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “Eddie knew the risks—and also the rewards of staying out of jail. He was his own man, and he opted to take this path.”
Raquelle didn’t doubt for one minute that her brother knew what he was doing. Nor did she believe that Landon—or anyone else—could compel Eddie to act against his own best interests. But had those turned to worst interests?What have you gotten yourself into, Eddie?she asked, given the dire conditions he faced.
She eyed her ex-husband and, pursing her lips, demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? As your ex-wife, I deserved to know that Eddie was working undercover for you and what it entailed…”
“That’s not the way this works, Raquelle,” Landon told her, as if she needed to be reminded. He did so anyway. “As an FBI special agent, I’m bound to separate professionalfrom personal parts of my life. Telling you would have potentially blown Eddie’s cover and jeopardized the case. Not to mention possibly putting you in harm’s way. I couldn’t let that happen. And Eddie felt exactly the same way.” Landon jutted his chin. “Apart from that, you and I haven’t really been on speaking terms—or so it seemed—for the last few years. Not exactly a way I wanted to break the ice…by talking about your brother violating the law and a remedy for that.”
Raquelle conceded that neither he nor Eddie had been obligated to confide in her about the investigation. Yes, she and her ex hadn’t communicated very much since the divorce—no matter the rationale or lack thereof. She hated to think that Eddie had chosen to skirt the law instead of coming to her for help, if he had money problems. She was hardly a rich divorcée—far from it—even with a few investments in the stock market that she’d made when she was still married to Landon. But she had socked away some money that she would gladly have given her brother, if it meant staying out of trouble. And forced to be a confidential human source for the FBI as a result. Now she didn’t even know if he was alive or dead.
“Okay, I get it,” Raquelle said, meeting Landon’s firm gaze. “You both did what you needed to do.” She paused thoughtfully. “Why was Eddie’s place trashed? What were they looking for…?”
Landon scratched his chin, ruminating, before he responded, “My guess is that they were looking for any damning evidence that could be used against them as we pursue our case—assuming there wasn’t anything else going on in Eddie’s life that he kept to himself. Theransacking could have come before, during, or after the boat explosion at the marina.”
Sucking in a calming breath, she asked fearfully, “If Eddie wasn’t on the boat and isn’t at his apartment…is he on the run or what?”
Landon did not pull any punches when he replied unwaveringly, “It may well beor what. I don’t want to lead you astray by suggesting that Eddie is in hiding. Some very bad people apparently want him dead—and he’s not answering his cell phone. Or otherwise trying to contact one of us for help. That tells me he may not have made it out of this alive.” Landon put his hand atop hers. “On the other hand, there’s been no body found or other verification that he’s stopped breathing. You know your brother better than I do, Raquelle, so you should go with your own instincts on this—until proven otherwise…”
She stilled her nerves.I have to believe Eddie’s still alive, in spite of the current trajectory, she told herself. To give up hope was not in her DNA. Even against the odds that seemed to be in play. “Okay.”
He took his hand off hers and said, “I have to go. If Eddie does get in touch with you, let me know immediately.”
“I will,” she promised. Then added, “Back at you.”
Landon nodded. “All right.”
Raquelle watched him get out of the vehicle while feeling there was so much more to be said regarding where things stood between them. Would the opportunity ever present itself to go there without the specter of Eddie’s disappearance hanging over them like a shroud? Clouding any possible chance of a reconciliation of sorts?
She started up her car and headed home.
RAQUELLE DROVE UPto her custom contemporary house on Velick Road in Dryer Woods, not far from the college or Knotter Marina. It was two stories with four bedrooms and sat on a forested two-acre lot that had loblolly pine and southern red oak trees, and a trail that meandered through them. She had hoped to find Eddie’s Audi Q4 Sportback e-tron on the concrete driveway, thinking he might have come there for safe refuge. But it wasn’t there. Her eyes scanned the property for any sign of him. Again, she came up empty. Maybe he thought it best to keep his distance while trying to figure things out. Or was that more wishful thinking on her part?
The realistic thought that her brother was dead left Raquelle feeling nauseous but unconvinced. Wouldn’t she be able to sense it somehow if this were the case? Could she really trust her senses in the face of witnessing his boat exploding and seeing firsthand that his apartment had been ransacked? Surely, these were bad signs that she couldn’t dismiss out of hand. Any more than the fact that Eddie had chosen to involve himself in art theft as if he had no choice in the matter, much to her chagrin.
Still, she needed to just wait and see how things played out, no matter the uncomfortable optics.
