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Going back to school after Thanksgiving break was strange. I had packed so much into those four days off that it almost felt like I was returning from summer break. It may have been the longest four days ever, yet at the same time, it seemed as if it had gone too fast.
I looked at my classmates with a fresh understanding. Now, thanks to the new information offered by Isaac ‘Milky’ Blevins, I knew that half the school looked at me as a fraud. A story got around about a murder case I’d solved while at a ski resort with my parents, a true story. But I never talked about it, and people looked upon me as if I were a spinner of tall tales. A trickster. A con artist. Even though I never once took credit, bragged, confirmed, or denied that the story was true. It all made me feel like distancing myself even more from my classmates. I had Jason, and I had Gwen. I didn’t need anyone else.
It was a testament to how great a person Jason was that he continued to be seen with me around the school. Despite his social status in our little world, when we were together, I got the clear feeling that he was laser-focused on me. On us. I had no doubt that he was questioned about our relationship when we weren’t together, but we were beyond all the gossip and odd looks. In our minds, we were beyond high school.
I drifted through my classes while planning our next move in my head. Thomas Milner was now our main suspect. We could try to interview him, but he most likely wouldn’t cooperate. And, if he realized we were onto him, he could possibly kill us where we stood.
Or would he?
Clearly, the anger management classes had taught Milner to control his rage, but now he had learned to focus his anger. He was careful. Crafty. His outbursts had been replaced by careful planning and nearly flawless execution. That made our other option, breaking into his house to search for evidence, far more dangerous.
“Holly?” Gwen called out. “Are you okay?”
I was at my locker and couldn’t, for the life of me, remember how I got there. “Yeah. Just a little distracted, I guess.”
“That’s an understatement,” she observed. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
Had she been talking to me? “No. I’m sorry.”
“It’s Isaac.”
I turned to her. “What about him?”
“I think I really like him.”
This was a shock. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” she said, blushing. “We really hit it off last night. I mean, usually, we only talk about Dungeons & Dragons. Last night was the first time we got to know each other. He’s funny and artistic. You should see the wild sketches he comes up with.”
“When did you see his artwork?” I asked curious.
“Last night. He had pictures on his phone. Holly, have you been completely zoned out this whole time?”
I paused to give that question some thought before I answered. “I guess I have. I can’t stop thinking about this case. We’re so close to the end.”
Gwen stared at me with concern clear on her face. “I’m afraid you guys are going to do something stupid.”
I closed my locker door, and we turned to walk down the hall together. “Well, there’s always that chance.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” she stated, and her voice was on the verge of becoming a whine.
“I’m not going to lie to you. That’s why you wanted out, right?”
An expression of helplessness came over her face. “Yeah. But now, I feel like you need someone to watch your back.”
I stopped and turned to her. “What are you saying?”
“I want back in. Only, you know, the guy in movies that always stays in the van with a computer and feeds the field operatives information as they embark on their mission?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to be that guy. I want to stay in the car and keep in contact with you guys in case things go south.”
I grinned. “That can be arranged.”
“Good,” Gwen said with a slight nod.
I was Glad to have her back.
***
Jason gave the two of us a ride home after school. I informed him that Gwen was back in, though only from a distance. He seemed indifferent about the news, then we discussed our next move.
“I think we should try and interview him,” I suggested hesitantly. “We can learn a lot from his reaction to our questions. While we conduct the interview, one of us will have to find an opportunity to snoop around his house. We need evidence. Something that connects him to the death of your mom.”
“What could we possibly find?” Jason asked. “He used my father’s gun, so we won’t find a murder weapon. The guy even got into our house without any signs of forced entry. He’s calculated and careful. What do we hope to find?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said, forcing confidence into my voice. “But this could be our only chance.”
“When do we want to do it?” Gwen asked from the back seat.
I shrugged. “No time like the present. If we surprise him, we can get a better read on his reaction.”
Jason nodded but seemed unsure. “Okay. You’re the navigator. Let’s find his house.”
I punched the address into the map app on my phone, and we were on our way. It was then I realized that the Milners were the only parents from the trial study who lived in town. The other two lived in Indianapolis. This only added to my belief that Thomas Milner was our guy. While Indy wasn’t a super long drive, it was definitely more likely the killer lived in or around town. Milner lived on the southern edge.
As we pulled into the driveway, I got a good look at the house. It was big and old. A farmhouse with nothing growing on the surrounding land. The driveway was long and wound up a short hill where it looped around in a roundabout, at the center of which was an overgrown rosebush that was flowerless for the season. The siding of the house was a faded white, and the shudders were dark red. The overcast day lent darkness to the early evening, and the lights from the house spilled onto the ground outside.
“This place is eerie,” Gwen remarked. It was the perfect adjective. A house like this was usually seen in horror movies. The kind of house inherited by a family from a distant relative and held secrets that would be discovered as the film went along.
Jason killed the engine, and we looked at each other.
“Are we ready for this?” he inquired. The question seemed directed at himself more than me or Gwen. I nodded. “Gwen, I’m putting my Bluetooth headset in, and I’ll call you and keep the line open. Wait here. If anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to call the police.”
“Got it,” Gwen responded.
“And try to stay out of sight. If he doesn’t know you’re out here, that can only work to our advantage.”
“Okay.” Gwen slouched in the back seat, out of view from the house, but still able to keep an eye out for trouble.
Jason and I exited the Toyota and climbed the weather-worn steps of the wrap-around porch. I pulled open the storm door, and Jason knocked on the heavy oak front door. Moments later, a man opened the door and stood staring at us with a look of confusion. He was an average build. His hair was dark blonde and was combed away from his forehead in a wave. There was a sternness to his features, but he was handsome. His eyes were bright green and on high alert behind black-rimmed glasses.
“Can I help you?” he asked after a slight struggle to regain his composure. I knew then we’d found our guy. He knew we had been asking questions. It was why he had let himself be seen outside of my house. That was a threat. It was meant to get me to back off. He never suspected we’d make it this far—to uncover his motive, his criminal history, his address. We had caught him off guard.
“Hi,” I greeted, my voice calm. Confident. “I’m Holly, and this is my friend, Jason. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about Mrs. Shannon Kenilworth.”
“Who?” Now, he was back on his feet, figuratively speaking. The discomfort we’d caused was short-lived. Fleeting. He was good at adlibbing.
“She was the grade school teacher who committed suicide a couple of weeks ago. See, we think she may have been murdered. We’ve been investigating, and the evidence we found led us here.”
“Is that right?” he spoke mockingly. “And what evidence is that?”
“I’m afraid we can’t reveal that to anyone but the police.” It was a poker game now. I was baiting him, and he was trying to call my bluff. “We were hoping you could fill in some blanks for us.”
He shrugged. “Sorry, I never met her.”
“But you did know her husband,” I went on. “He conducted a medical study at the university. Your child was part of that study. Unfortunately, the experimental medication administered didn’t work, and you lost your son. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Something flashed across his face then. Immense sadness, as well as a touch of anger. “Thanks for saying so. Yeah, Dr. Kenilworth. Now that you mention it. Same last name. I never made the connection.”
“My parents,” Jason said in a clipped tone. I sensed an edge to his voice. Tension was building between the three of us. I could have tried to calm it down, but instead, I chose to ride it.
“My condolences,” Milner replied. “It’s an awful thing, losing a loved one.” There was no sympathy in the man’s voice. This was a statement of malice. As if he were saying this was the way it had to be. You take one of mine, I take one of yours.
“You seem to be the type to hold a grudge,” I pointed out to Milner.
He turned his piercing eyes on me. “Nah. Live and let live. That’s what I always say.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t believe that. I believe you plotted revenge against Dr. Kenilworth. Your motto is more likely an eye for an eye. You killed Mrs. Kenilworth and made it look like suicide. It was an act of revenge.”
He studied me, and a strange smile spread across his lips. “Well, go ahead and prove it.”
Milner had us there. Even though he all but admitted his guilt, he knew we didn’t have enough evidence to prove he’d committed murder.
“I don’t believe I’ll be answering any questions today,” Milner continued. “Now, get the hell off my property.”
“What’s going on?” a female voice asked from behind Thomas Milner. Kendra Milner was short and thin. She had shoulder-length, black hair that framed a pretty face. Her nose was thin and pointed, and she was in full winter gear with a heavy wool sweater, jeans, and knee-high boots.
“Just some kids selling Girl Scout cookies. They were just leaving.”
Thomas Milner shut the door in our faces. For a moment, I only stood looking at the window that was set into the door. Through the frosted glass, I could see the blurred figure of our killer and his wife disappearing further into the house. I could feel Jason’s eyes on me. He was unsure of what to do next and was about to ask. I answered before he could. “Now, we have to break into this guy’s house.”
“What?”
I turned and started down the steps back toward the 4 Runner. “It’s the only way we’re going to come up with the evidence we need. Clearly, he’s not going to let us in for an interview.”
“Holly, that is a bad idea. Aside from being illegal, this guy is dangerous. If he catches us, we’re dead.”
Once we were both back in the car, I continued the conversation. “We have to be careful. Watch the house and make sure he and his wife are gone before we make our move. It’s the only way. We have to find evidence to end this once and for all.”
Jason’s eyes went wide. He was stunned. “And what if we don’t? The guy is meticulous. If he hasn’t disposed of all evidence by now, he sure as hell will after this little visit. He knows we’re on to him.”
“Guys,” Gwen interrupted. “What are we talking about?”
I turned to Jason, momentarily ignoring the third-degree from the back seat. “Jason, do you want to put your mother’s killer away or not?”
“Of course I do,” he shouted. I had never seen him truly angry until now. “How can you even ask me that?”
“Because I thought this would meet less resistance,” I replied, my voice raising to meet his. “You’re starting to sound like Gwen.”
“Hey,” Gwen interjected.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true.” I was angry. More so than I’d ever been in my life. How could he fight me on this?
“I’m just saying,” Jason continued. “Let’s say we do break in. And let’s say everything goes right. We find the evidence without being killed by Milner. What then? Any evidence we obtain from breaking into this house will not hold up in court. It will have been obtained illegally.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re right. I know.”
“Thank you.” His voice was a groan of exasperation.
Mentally, I flipped through our options like a Rolodex in my mind. “There is a way. We can get in and take photos of anything we find. We get out without being seen and take the evidence to the detective we talked to before. He won’t be happy, but it will give him reason to try for a search warrant. If he can get one, this is all over, and Milner goes to prison.”
“That’s an awfully big ‘if’, Holly,” Jason pointed out, but I thought I was starting to wear him down.
“I know,” I said simply. In my mind, I was already plotting our best route to get into the house.
***
Back to my house, the three of us climbed the stairs to my room and started to plot our strategy. It would take some serious stakeout time to determine when best to break into the Milner house. Unfortunately, we didn’t have that kind of time on our hands. If Milner was smart, any possible evidence he still had around his house would be disposed of right away. Especially after a couple of kids had accused him of murder right to his face. In retrospect, not the best idea.
“We have to move soon,” I pointed out, conveying my previous thought to my partners.
“How fast are we talking?” Jason inquired anxiously.
I threw my arms up. “Tomorrow night. At the latest.”
“This is so dangerous,” Gwen pointed out. Though her role as the perpetual voice of reason was grating on my nerves at this point, I knew it was a voice I needed. I had a tendency to rush into risky situations without considering what could go wrong.
“That’s where you come in, Gwen,” I informed her, keeping my frustration with her well hidden. “Just like today, you are going to be our eyes and ears. The guy in the van. Jason and I will stay in constant contact via our Bluetooth headsets. Any sign of the couple returning or anything out of place, it’ll be your job to let us know. Then, we get out right away.”
“Got it,” she said with an uncertain nod.
“But how are we going to get in?” Jason questioned. “I don’t know anything about breaking into a house.”
“We’ll have to figure that out when we get there,” I replied. “We’ll have to hope for an unlocked door or window. If we can’t get in, we’ll abort the mission.”
“What if they don’t leave the house while we’re watching?” Gwen complained. “We do still have school.”
Their complaints seemed to be flying at me nonstop. I wondered if this was how my parents felt in my early teenage years. “Guys, we might have to play sick.”
The two of them exchanged glances, then looked back at me and nodded. The mission to catch Milner had started.