Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,6

bad, I’d have to leave two hours early, just so I’d have enough time to find my destination.”

The rumbling turned into a half-choked chuckle.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not. Really,” he said, but she could hear the laughter he was trying hard not to let out. Instead of being angry, she relaxed for the first time since Paula hadn’t reported for work.

She drove down Sagamore, past some brick duplex apartment buildings and aged Victorians that had all seen better days a hundred years ago. Further down the block they passed other turn-of-the-last-century homes that were either remodeled or in the process of being so until they came to a Victorian that looked like it had been converted to apartments on both floors sometime in the last fifty or so years. The address was Paula’s, so Brianna pulled into the driveway, behind an old 1996 Corolla.

“This is the place,” she said, sitting back in her seat and taking a deep breath.

“Which one’s hers?”

“Says unit four on her address, so one of the ones upstairs?” she said, climbing out of the car. He waited for her to lock the doors and then they headed to the brick stairs on the side of the house. “I was afraid she lived in some dilapidated place.”

“Why?” he asked following her up the stairs.

“The shelter pays lower than some other state jobs, but it does carry health insurance and pays for her college courses, as long as she maintains a good grade point average. I honestly didn’t know what her situation was.”

“Based on the area, I was expecting something worse than this, too.” He nodded at the two houses under construction on the opposite side of the street. “I didn’t realize this particular little neighborhood was being gentrified. Looks like she’s making good decisions.”

Brianna gave him a half-smile. “I thought she was, too. Well, before she didn’t come to work or call in sick.” Noting the door had two deadbolt locks, she knocked on the door and suddenly there was barking coming from inside.

“She has a dog?” Aaron asked.

“I’ve never heard her talk about one before.” She knocked again. “Paula? It’s Brianna Matthews.”

The curtains in the window near the door moved and the head of the scruffiest, grey and brown, wire-haired dog peeked through and barked more. Then the dog started jumping.

“He’s acting frantic and he’s going to pull those curtains down on him,” Aaron said, gently nudging Brianna out of the way. “I think we need to get in there and see what’s going on.”

“You can’t break down the door,” she said. The last thing she wanted to do was get Paula in trouble with her landlord, especially if there wasn’t a reason for breaking in.

“I thought I’d try something less traumatic.” Aaron gave her a pointed a you-doubt-my-abilities look and reached into his pocket, pulling out something that resembled a utility knife. He flipped open a few parts that looked like metal picks and began working on the deadbolts.

Her cheeks filled with heat as she moved back a little more to give him room to work. “Do you always carry a lock picking tool with you, Detective?”

“Back when I was on patrol, I had a partner who thought it was super-macho to crash in suspects doors, leaving them hanging by the hinges,” he said as he maneuvered the picks around the top deadbolt, then moved on to the bottom one. “Problem was, a few times he had bad intel and he crashed doors of innocent people, who then had to pay thousands to fix their doors, not to mention left them vulnerable to the elements or nefarious people willing to take advantage of unsecured homes.”

She couldn’t help her giggle.

“What?” he asked over his shoulder, his hand paused on the lock.

“Nefarious. You could just say bad guys.”

“I could.” He gave her a little wink as he went back to work on the lock. “But nefarious was on my word-a-day ap on my phone last week. Seemed like a good time to use it.”

Before she could comment on him having a word-a-day ap on his phone or the interest in learning a new word every day, which sort of surprised her, he stood and twisted the doorknob. He inched the door open enough that the little scruffy -looking pup backed up, barking, but wagging his tail. Then the dog turned and scampered away.

“Anyone home?” Aaron called, going in first.

“Paula? It’s me, Brianna Matthews. Are you here?” She followed him in.

An old couch and over-stuffed chair sat in the living