Stray Fears - Gregory Ashe Page 0,61
that, and if she knew you looked like Noah—”
“Who’s Noah?”
“The guy who shot Mason. If she knew you looked like him, and she knew how it would affect Mason, it would explain why she kept you and Mason in the same group. The responsible thing to do, once she noticed that Mason had some sort of issue with you, would have been to separate you.”
My phone buzzed, and I jumped. Richard’s name showed on the screen.
“Are you all right?” he asked when I answered.
“Yes.”
“I heard about Tamika. I’m so sorry. How are you?”
“Fine. Ok.”
“Where are you?”
“Having dinner with a friend.”
Richard didn’t answer right away; his silence said everything. He didn’t think I had friends.
“I was going to stay in the city tonight,” he said. “We’ve got a panel first thing in the morning, and Zahra booked a room. I’m driving home right now, though.”
“No,” I said. “Stay.”
“I can’t stand the thought of you by yourself right now.”
“Richard, I’m fine. I’m sad, but I’m fine. Stay. You don’t need to do that drive twice. I’ll see you tomorrow, though, right?”
It took a little bit longer to get him to agree, but then the call ended.
“Zahra’s staying in New Orleans tonight,” I said to Dag.
“Eli, let’s think this through rationally.”
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll think it through rationally. We’ll eat some delicious roast chicken and potatoes. And then we’re going to search that bitch’s house and find some evidence.”
DAG (14)
I parked the Escort two blocks down from Zahra’s house. She lived in a tony section of La Grange, which was the tony section of Bragg: McMansions on quarter-acre lots, all of them painted by exterior lights, like the whole neighborhood was staged instead of a real place real people lived. It had been easy to get her address off a white-page lookup online; it hadn’t been quite as easy to convince Elien to let me take the lead.
“You’re going to stay here,” I said when I turned off the car.
He leveled a look at me.
“I’m just reminding you.”
“Consider me reminded.”
“I will come back and get you if it looks like the house is empty.”
He gave me a mock salute. The green in his hazel eyes glinted in the ambient light.
“Can you please be good for five minutes?” I asked.
“One time I went a solid three and a half,” he said.
“Let’s try to break that record.”
I slipped out of the Escort, jogged back the two blocks, and cut up along the side of Zahra’s house. It was a monstrosity with a sweeping slate roof, gray brick, and mullioned windows. The front flower beds held columbine and foxglove; at the back of the house, jessamine climbed a trellis. I kept going, making a circuit of the house, checking the windows, and then I jogged back to the car.
Elien was standing on the curb, leaning against the car door, every long, lean inch of him on display. The night air had ruffled his hair more than usual.
“Lights on timers,” I said. “Nobody’s home.”
“Did you ring the doorbell?”
“I did not.”
“I would have rung the doorbell, just to see if anyone came to the door.”
“She’s got one of those video doorbell things,” I said. “It would have sent my picture to her phone.”
“Oh,” Elien said.
“I’m not totally bad at my job.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Elien said, frowning. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Say bad things about yourself.”
“Come on,” I said. “Before the neighborhood watch calls in this piece of shit.”
His frown got deeper; I headed back to Zahra’s house.
We went around back again. French doors opened onto the patio, and Elien approached them and touched the handle. Then he stopped.
“What about an alarm?”
I pointed up, where two of the second-story windows were open. “Doesn’t look like she’s worried.”
“I guess if you’re the monster, you don’t have to worry.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Elien rattled the handle. “Should I break a window?”
Nudging him aside, I drew out the neoprene case from my back pocket. I had a few smaller tools in there, including a nice, thin length of stainless steel that I worked between the doors until the latch slipped free. The door popped open, and from inside came a breath of something foul.
“Last chance,” I whispered.
Elien shook his head. I passed him a pair of disposable gloves and pulled on my own.
I pulled open the door and stepped inside. A few lamps laid down pools of light amidst the expensive furniture: a chesterfield with brass nailhead trim; a chaise with its wood painted white and houndstooth upholstery; built-in shelves