Javi’s eyebrow twitched briefly.Unless Kincaid had suffered some other setback, it looked like Cloister had gotten under his skin, too.Kincaid micromanaged when he was annoyed.
“I’ll be—” he started to say.Before he could make any promises, Cloister’s voice broke through his concentration.
“Merlo.”
The clipped shift to professionalism caught in Javi’s brain like a hook.He muttered a quick excuse to Sue, hung up, and turned around.The garage was cranked up, one corner bent out of true where it had been forced, and braced on Cloister’s arm.
On the other side of the door was a dark red Chevy Impala.
“Look familiar?”Cloister asked.
It did.That didn’t mean it was.It couldn’t be.
Javi took a moment to try to resolve the dissonance, but it didn’t work.Whether it made sense or not, the car in the garage looked alotlike Clyde Limehouse’s personal vehicle, the one half the LEOs in San Diego had been looking for since yesterday.
He broke into a jog to close the distance to the garage, ducking under Cloister’s arm.Someone had covered the license plate with thick, runny layers of black spray paint—in situ from the splatters on the ground—but there was a charter school sticker on the back bumper.It was for RISE in LA.That was where Joel had been based.
“It could be a different car,” Javi said.
“There was a coolant stain in Joel’s garage,” Cloister said.“Same as on the drive.And she’d scraped the side of the car on the way out.”
Javi checked one side of the car.It was dirty, but unscarred.He walked around the front.The space was tight enough that there was just enough room to squeeze between it and the wall.There was a long, fresh scuff in the paintwork on the door.
“It’s the same car,” Javi said.He put his hand on the hood, the metal cold against his palm, and looked across the garage at Cloister.“What the hell?Did…would Bon remember a scent trail from yesterday?Could she have just picked it up?”
It would still be weird, but—
“No,” Cloister said.“I mean, she’ll remember the scent, but she’d not go off the trail I put her on.We tracked Miles here.”
“Then why’s Joel’s car here?”Javi asked.And then… “And where the fuck is my SSA?”
As if she’d timed it, Bourneville raked at the door into the house and whined.She lay down, got up, and raked the door insistently again.
Javi looked around.There was a crowbar, heavy and rusted along the shaft, propped up in the corner of the garage against a wall.He grabbed it and shoved it in Cloister’s direction.“Check the car,” he ordered briskly as Cloister took the tool.“I’m going to clear the house.”
Cloister hefted the crowbar with absent-minded familiarity as he objected.“I should do that,” he said.“I’ve got Bourneville, and—”
“And you’re suspended,” Javi reminded him as he unclipped his holster and drew his gun.“I’m going to have a hard enough time explaining you being here as it is.This is an FBI investigation.Call the dog off.Check the car.”
A whistle and a clipped “Aus” made Bourneville reluctantly abandon the door.Javi gave her a wide berth, opened the door, and headed into the main house.
Itsmelledlikeneglect.The heavy, earthy smell of the mold that crusted scabs on the walls behind the stacks of magazines and bags of clothes, undercut with the sour, sharp smell of urine.
Joel would want to claw her skin off.
For a beat, Javi paused, breathing through his mouth and gun held loosely, as he tried to work out how that was useful.It wasn’t.The idea hung around, though, sticky with unexpected sympathy for a woman whose weekly grocery list always included antibiotic wipes.
He ignored it as he made his way through the house.The muzzle of his gun tracked to doors and corners as he methodically searched.
Kitchen.Hall.Living room.
All clear.
A sudden scuttle in the corner of his vision made him twitch the gun in that direction.His finger tightened on the trigger and then relaxed as he saw a big ginger cat jump up the stack of crumpled McDonald’s bags on the coffee table.It stared at him, eyes big and yellow and unbothered, and then jumped down.The kick-off from its dismount sent the bags spilling to the floor.Javi expected to hear the soft thud of paper cups and leftovers; instead, he got the crack and smash of broken glass.
It made him jump, his breath sour and tight in his throat as he caught it.He had a second to feel embarrassed at the reaction, even though no one saw him.Then, from the back of the house, he heard someone demand, “Who’s there!Get out!I’ve called the cops!”
Javi glanced briefly at the cat.It puffed itself out at the sound of yelling and ran out of the room.He didn’t know what else he’d expected of it, but…
