CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Jack rang the doorbell four times before Michelle, hair twisted up in a clip, black-rimmed glasses over sleepy, hooded eyes, opened the door. She looked Jack up and down. “McBride? What are you dressed like that for?”

Jack looked down and was as shocked as Michelle to see himself wearing a tan Stillwater PD uniform. The gun belt creaked when he walked, and the bullet-proof vest pinched his underarms.

Jack ignored her question and held the warrant out. “We have a warrant to search your house and place of business.”

Realization dawned and she laughed. “You are out of your fucking mind.” She snapped the warrant from Jack’s hand and glanced at it.

Chris appeared behind her, looking more hungover than sleepy. “What’s going on?”

Michelle handed him the warrant. “I’m calling Davie.”

Chris looked from the warrant to Jack and Malik, and the sheriff’s deputies arranged behind them.

“We’re searching your house, Chris. We need you to step aside.”

He did, and he held the door open.

“Yeah, Norman, they’re here, in my fucking house at six o’clock in the morning,” Michelle said into her phone. “Get your ass over here now. I’m calling Dad.”

“Mom? Dad?”

Two teenagers stood at the top of the stairs.

“Jordan, Andy, get some clothes on,” Michelle said, then put her phone to her ear.

“Start downstairs,” Jack said to the officers streaming into the house. “Malik, stay near Michelle.” The deputy nodded.

“Dad, McBride is searching my house. He said he’s searching my place of business, too … I don’t know, I haven’t heard from him …” Michelle’s face tightened and she hung up.

Michelle put the phone down on the counter and studied Jack. Without taking her eyes from him, she held out her hand to her husband. “Let me see the warrant.” Chris dutifully handed it to her.

“Evidence pertaining to the death of Diego Vazquez, Paco Morales, Amy Doyle, and Matt Doyle.” Astonishment clear on her face, Michelle said, “The worst part about this is you have no idea who killed these people.”

“Why don’t you and Chris have a seat,” Jack said. “This’ll take a while.”

“How dare you,” Michelle said. She walked forward and stood toe to toe with Jack. He looked down on her with a placid expression. “You come into my house on the day of my brother’s funeral and accuse me of murdering him? This town will never, ever forgive you.”

Jack smelled her morning breath and tried not to gag. “When I catch Matt and Amy’s killer, no one will care.”

Michelle’s lip curled. “You’re not going to catch him in this house.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m going to change.”

“Brush your teeth while you’re at it.”

He thought Michelle was going to claw his eyes out and was disappointed when she didn’t try. Instead, she walked away. Malik followed. Michelle stopped at her bedroom door and saw the deputy. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t be alone.”

Michelle sighed in exasperation but went inside the room and let Malik follow.

Chris watched his wife with amusement, which he wiped from his face when he saw Jack watching him. “Funny?” Jack said.

“I’m not used to seeing my wife so flustered.”

Jack tried to put his hands in his pockets but was thwarted by his holster on one side. He settled for resting his hands on the holster, felt ridiculous, and crossed them over his chest. With fifteen extra pounds of Kevlar, his crossed arms stuck out at a weird angle, making him feel like a genie about to work a spell. He dropped his arms down next to his side.

“Nice uniform,” Chris said.

Jack didn’t answer.

“I hate to tell you, but that isn’t going to help you when Doyle comes after you.”

“It’s not why I’m wearing it.”

Jordan and Andy Ryan, one of them wide-eyed and disbelieving, the other disdainful, came into the living room. Jordan sat next to her dad, and Andy sat on the fireplace hearth.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Jordan asked. She was the classic cheerleader type; fresh-faced and innocent looking, but her expression at the moment was one of fear.

“They’re searching the house, honey,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because our family is a bunch of crooks.”

Andy, on the other hand, looked like he would have fit right in with the hipsters in Brooklyn. Looking at the two of them, Jack would have guessed Jordan was watching over Andy in Cheyney’s Field, not the other way around.

“Jordan, can I speak to you for a minute?”

Her eyes widened. “Why do you want to talk to her?” Chris said.

Jack smiled tightly at Chris. “I need to ask her about Saturday night.”

“Sure.” She jumped up and walked to the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator, opened it and sipped. Her hand shook when she lifted the bottle to her mouth. Jack moved around so Jordan had to turn to face him, placing her back to her father.

“I’m not going to tell your parents about Cheyney’s Field, okay? Don’t look so terrified or your dad will ask questions.”

She nodded briskly.

“What time did you get home Sunday morning?”

“Three.”

“Did you see your parents?”

“Yeah.”

“You did?”

Jordan’s brows furrowed. “Yeah. I saw my dad coming out of my mom’s room.”

“What time?”

“Three,” she said, as if she couldn’t believe he didn’t remember she just told him.

“Did he see you?”

“I wouldn’t be very good at sneaking in if he did.”

“Was your mom here?”

“Why else would he be coming out of her room in the middle of the night?” Based on Jordan’s expression, she clearly thought Jack was an idiot.

“You didn’t see her though?”

“No.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Jordan rolled her eyes and left as Michelle walked into the kitchen. She made coffee like it was any other day and there weren’t deputies wearing surgical gloves searching every drawer and cabinet around her. Jack went over to the door to Michelle’s room and saw Malik searching the bottom dresser drawer.

Malik stood and motioned to the drawer. “Chief.”

Jack walked over and peered down at a 9 mm at the bottom of what looked like her athletic clothes drawer.

“That was too easy,” Malik said.

Jack walked out of the room, found the crime scene tech, and motioned for him to follow. Jack stopped at the door. Simon entered and took a picture of the room at large before slowly narrowing his focus to the gun in the drawer.

Jack called Michelle over. She took her time. By the time she got there, Malik was holding the gun by the handle with two gloved fingers. Simon wrote on a labeled plastic bag.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a gun.”

“I don’t. That’s not mine.”

“It was in your bottom drawer.”

Michelle’s face drained of color, her expression of bravado. “Jack, I swear. That is not my gun.” Malik removed the clip and emptied the chamber and dropped it all into the bag Simon held open. He sealed it and walked past Jack and Michelle. Jack stopped him, took the bagged gun from him, inspected it, and gave it back to Simon with a nod. Simon had the tools in the mobile CSI unit to check for prints, but he would have to take it to Yourkeville for ballistics, not that he needed to.

Jack would know that gun anywhere.

Jack lowered his voice. “Michelle, you need to come with me.” Her eyes were panicked, shifting from Jack, to Malik, and finally to her family, sitting silently in the living room. “I won’t arrest you or cuff you in front of your family, but you have to come quietly and willingly.”

She nodded. “Let me put my shoes on.”

They walked out of the house and saw Norman Davie patiently waiting out of the way. When they got abreast of him, Michelle said, “Norman, meet us at the station.”

“Michelle, I can’t. I’m your father’s business lawyer, and the company is being searched. You’ll have to find another lawyer.”

Michelle stumbled, stopped, and turned to Davie. A riot of emotions played across Michelle’s face and, for a split second, Jack thought she was going to sob. Instead she straightened to her full height, said, “Tell Dad what’s happened, and call Bob Underwood,” and walked away, head held high.

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Jack stared out the window of Ann Newberry’s office, his phone held to his ear. “Hey, Julie. Is Eddie at home?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Yourkeville.”

Julie sighed. “Of course you are. No. Eddie isn’t here and as far as I know, he never came home last night.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Why would I have talked to him? What’s wrong?”

Jack picked up a picture from the credenza. Ann, her daughter, and her granddaughter dressed up for Halloween. He smiled despite his concern for Eddie. The daughter and granddaughter were zombies, and Ann was dressed up like the sheriff from The Walking Dead.

“I’ve been trying to call him since last night and can’t get in touch with him.”

“He’s probably with his girlfriend. Celebrating their good news.”

“I’ll call her.”

“Did you even come home last night?”

“No. Sorry. I was in Dallas until late, then I had to get a judge to sign off on a warrant to execute this morning. I’ve hardly had time to eat.”

“Jack, this is worse than when you were with the Agency. I can’t live like this.”

“This is how it is, Julie. If you don’t like it, leave.”

“I’m taking Ethan with me.”

“Over my dead body.”

There was silence on the other end. Jack knew she might be gone when he got home, and he wasn’t sure if she could manipulate Ethan into leaving with her or not.

“Don’t do anything until we talk, okay?” Jack said. “This should all be settled down by tomorrow. I promise.”

Her laugh was laced with bitterness. “That’s what you always say,” she said and clicked off.

Jack let his phone fall to his chest. Should he text Ethan, warn him his mother wanted to leave Stillwater and take him with her? Hope she waited one more day? Hope Ethan wouldn’t leave with her if given the chance?

He lifted the phone and placed the call he dreaded making, though when Ellie answered, his shoulders relaxed and he smiled.

“Hey. It’s Jack.”

“Hi.” She sounded wary. Jack couldn’t blame her. He expected angry. Wary he could deal with.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Oh. Thanks. I didn’t expect to win.”

“No, not the election. About last night.”

“The victory party?” He heard the air quotes in her voice. “You didn’t miss anything. Though your wife and son came by. That was fun.”

“No. I’m sorry I didn’t make it out to your lake house.”

“My lake house?”

“Didn’t Eddie talk to you?”

“I haven’t talked to Eddie since Sunday night. He texted he was coming by last night, but he never showed. Why? What’s going on?”

“I’m looking for Eddie. He didn’t go home last night, and if he isn’t with you …”

“Why would he stay the night with me?”

“I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, where else would he be? Has he ever stayed out at your lake house?”

“No. But he might have seen me punch in the code. Do you want me to go check?”

“Can you?”

“Of course. You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you?”

“I doubt it, but still.”

“I’ll go right now.”

“Thanks.”

Neither hung up. Finally, Jack said, “Is it true? Are you—”

It took Ellie so long to reply, Jack thought she had hung up. “Yes.”

“Oh my God.”

“Is that a good ‘Oh my God’ or a …”

“Of course it’s good. It’s wonderful.” He realized Ellie sounded subdued. “Is everything okay? Julie said you threw up. Have you been to the doctor?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” she snapped. “Jack, this isn’t a conversation I want to have on the phone.”

“No. Right. I should have these cases wrapped up today. Tomorrow at the latest.”

“Cases? Matt and Amy’s case?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Let me know when you get out to your lake house.”

“Okay. Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”