Gary cut the engine outside Erika’s house. Morgan sat in the warmth of the passenger seat, deciding if he should send the text message to Amy or Diane. He settled for Diane and hit Send.
“You okay with this?” Gary asked, hands still gripping the wheel.
“Not really, but what choice do I have?”
“There are options.”
“Not good ones.”
The phone buzzed back immediately. Morgan unlocked the screen to see Diane had met his request and sent him a picture of Mason Black, but she hadn’t asked any questions. Perhaps it was because she was a PI’s wife that she knew such things could come across as nagging and cause a distraction for the investigator. That, or she was just too afraid to ask.
“It’s going to be okay,” Gary assured him. “Just ask a couple questions, and see how she responds to them. If it looks like she’s being defensive, come back and let me know. We can get a warrant for her arrest, so even if she doesn’t have Mason in there she’ll probably be going down for murder. We just need to play it safe, make sure she doesn’t hurt him.”
“And if she recognizes my voice?”
“She might not.”
Morgan said nothing. The risks were clear, and the stakes were high. One wrong move could cost Mason his life, and Morgan could think of nothing worse than being responsible for that. In spite of this, he knew it was his only option without involving the police, and they were likely to swoop in without regard for a potential kidnapping victim. Even if they did care, it would take so long for the legal system to get going that Mason likely wouldn’t live anyway.
He had to find out.
“Wish me luck,” he said, climbing out of the car and crossing the street without his request being met. He approached the house, which looked normal enough, judging by the shingled driveway and neatly trimmed bushes. Morgan couldn’t help but notice tracks on the former, stopping before they reached the garage that had no door.
Paying it no more mind, he knocked on the front door and waited.
And waited.
Finally, it opened.
“Yes?”
Morgan stood staring at Erika Givens. He’d expected to see her, but he hadn’t quite made room for the possibility that he’d lose his voice. Looking at her now, his body seized up and his throat felt drier than a desert. He considered it a good thing, really—a dry huskiness might disguise his voice a little. “Um, are you Erika Givens?”
The woman hid behind the door, only half her face revealed. “Depends who’s asking.”
“I’m a reporter for Washington Live,” he lied. “I’m looking for a man who went missing a few days ago. I’m just canvassing the area, knocking on doors and looking for anyone who might have some information.”
“Well, I don’t know anything.”
“But I didn’t tell you his name.”
Erika stared daggers at him. “How many people do you think go missing around here? It’s not a lot, so I’d probably notice if I saw something. Which I didn’t, so you can buzz off.”
She began to shut the door.
Morgan’s foot moved in automatically, blocking it.
Without pausing for thought, he pulled out his phone and opened the photo Diane had sent him. He turned it around, shining it into Erika’s face. He was aware it would intimidate her, encouraging a reaction. But a reaction was what he wanted. “His name is Mason Black. Does that help?”
“What? No.” Blood rushed to Erika’s face, brightening it like an early sunrise.
“You’re sure?”
“Look,” she snapped, her British accent thicker as she spoke louder, “if I had anything to offer you I’d have given it up already, but I don’t know that man and I don’t know anything about his disappearance, so why don’t you remove your foot and leave me alone?”
It took everything he had to maintain his glare. Inside, he was terrified and ready to leave, but he couldn’t let it show. It was important he remained neutral, only suggesting her involvement in subtle hints. If he let it go that he knew she’d stolen a car, she was likely to do something dangerous. The only good thing so far was that she didn’t appear to have recognized his voice. “I’m sorry,” he said, sliding his foot out from the door and stepping back. “Sometimes I get a bit too invested.”
“Fine.”
Erika slammed the door.
With nothing left to do, Morgan headed down the path and walked out of sight before crossing the road, giving the illusion that he was heading to the next house. When he entered the car and escaped from the cold winter air, Gary twisted in his seat.
“Well?”
“She knows something,” Morgan said.
“Duh.”
“I mean something more. She was too defensive. I told her I was a reporter investigating a disappearance. Her reaction was… I don’t know. She spent half the short time acting hostile, but that could be because of the car she’d stolen and the cop she’d killed.”
Gary sighed, gnawing on his knuckles. “I’m going to need you to make a decision.”
Morgan thought long and hard, staring out across the street and watching the house. He could’ve sworn he saw a curtain twitch, but that could be expected from anyone who’d just had a reporter at their door, couldn’t it? Then again, he knew that voice. Not only from their phone call, but also from the million times it’d echoed through his dreams. Whether Mason was alive or not—even if he was in the house across the street—there was no denying that this woman was too dangerous for him to mess with.
There was only one thing to do.
“Make the call,” he finally said. “I’ll worry about the consequences later.”