The potent stench of bleach hit my senses hard.Fuck. I stuck my nose in the crook of my elbow and blinked a few times to rid my eyes of the watery burn. Grabbing a dish towel hanging over the kitchen sink, I covered my nose and mouth with a quick knot to the back of my head. It took a minute or so for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior and using the natural light filtering through the windows, I crept through the house.
A quick search of the downstairs living area revealed nothing. I made my way upstairs. The potency of the bleach grew stronger the nearer I got to the main bedroom. Inside, nothing seemed out of place. It all appeared too neat, as if no one had lived there for a while. I opened the en-suite bathroom and jerked back from the chlorine-like smell hitting my eyes. Crossing the room to the window, I opened it a fraction until I could breathe without gagging and my eyes stopped burning. Leaving it open, I walked back to the bathroom and pulled open the drawn shower curtain. The cleanliness was a dead giveaway that something sinister had gone down and I pulled my mind away from the obvious. The less I thought about it the better for my sanity.
My mobile buzzed. Stepping out of the bathroom, I answered. “Yeah.” Moving over to the window, I closed it.
“If you’re still at the Singh’s place, you need to get out now. I’ll explain later.” Declan cut the call.
I was slipping out the backdoor when voices coming from the front of the house-made me switch directions. Keeping my footfalls as light as possible, I edged my way toward the wooden fence and vaulted over into the backyard of another home. Picking up speed, I cut through a couple more houses before I deemed it safe enough to head for the main road. When I reached my car, I jumped in, catching sight of two black SUVs parked out front of the Singh’s house.
I recognized the vehicles. Feds. “Fuck,” I muttered, dialing Declan.
“You safe?” he asked on the third ring.
“What the fuck happened.”
“Sam got a call from an FBI agent. They want him to bring you in.”
“What the fuck.” I slammed the wheel with a palm. “What the fucks going on, Dec?” I was usually the calm one. This time, however, my head was on one fucked up bender, and I needed a quick fix. Only, nothing was panning out as easily as I wanted.
“Someone wants you on a tight leash,” Declan mumbled. “It’s the only logical explanation. Hang on a sec.” He covered the phone, but I could still hear a muffled conversation before he uncovered the phone again. “Jesus, Gabe, Ishara’s dead.”
“What!” I almost dropped the phone and gripped the device tight.
“It gets worse.” I didn’t like the tone of his voice.
Declan usually the one to make a joke of everything, sounded fearful and I understood his concern. He always knew I lived my life on the edge. Danger was my first name and he’d work himself into a riot when I disappeared for weeks without a word.
“What can be worse than every fucking person related to my wife is dead and she’s missing, Dec?”
“They found Ishara with a video recording on her phone stating that you were responsible for her death.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I barked out a caustic laugh. “What in the actual fuck is going on?”
“Shit, Gabe. Sam says they were tipped off about you dating Ishara and that you two were having problems.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I slammed the wheel once more. “I’ll see you in a few.” I cut the call before he could protest, knowing he wouldn’t want me there. Fuck that. I needed to get to the bottom of this. God knew where the fuck Ria was and now this shit. Raking a hand through my hair, I started the engine and the tires squealed as I burned rubber down the road. Either I’d screwed up or someone had a mighty fucking bone to pick with me. Then again, in my line of work, there was always some unanticipated reaction. Most, I’d be prepared for, this one though, they’d hit my weakest spot. “Where the fuck are you, Ria. Give me a sign, baby.”
When I pulled into the basement parking of Declan’s building fifteen minutes later, I spotted Sam climbing out of his BMW. We met at the stairwell.
“Gabe,” Sam nodded a greeting.
“What the fuck’s going on?” I wasted no time on pleasantries.
“Honestly, son, I’m just in the dark as you are. I got a call from an FBI agent who says they found Ishara’s body after a tip-off and Ria’s parents are missing, presumed dead.” He raked a hand through his crew-cut hair and gave me one of those looks I knew well. Something else was up.
“This is one clusterfuck I never saw coming.” I hedged, waiting for the hammer to drop.
He nodded. “They want to question you.” And there it was.
“What the fuck for?”
“It’s a routine questioning. See if your story checks out, that sort of thing.” He scratched his brow then sighed. “You’re an independent, son, you don’t need to go in if you don’t want to.”
I stared at him, my brain mental chaos I usually had iron-clad control over. “If I refuse who the fuck knows what other shit will hit the fan,” I muttered. “When and where?”
“They’ll call me with the details.”
“So, that gives me time to find Ria—”
