last night, asked for his schedule. You were sleepin’. I was bored.”
“Smart.”
He stretched his neck, rolling his head on his shoulders. “I try.” Bringing his head level, he stared at the house. “Maybe we should make a house call. See if the brother’s inside. And then we can check with the neighbors. They might be able to give us some insight.”
“I’m game if you are.”
Brantley opened the glove box, retrieved the gun he’d stashed there before he drifted off.
Reese started the engine, drove the SUV up to the house, and parked along the curb.
“This way we look like we belong.”
“The car, maybe,” he teased, opening the door and climbing out.
His body creaked as it acclimated to not being crunched into an awkward position. He adjusted his shirt to ensure it covered his weapon when he holstered it, then clipped his badge to his belt, covered it, too.
Together, they walked up to the door. Just a couple of visitors, casually strolling up. Reese knocked while Brantley stepped to the right, attempted to peek in through the windows. Subtly, of course. The blinds were open. Single room, one couch, a coffee table, and a TV. Nothing and no one else.
“Maybe the brother doesn’t live here?”
“Or maybe he’s been told not to answer the door.” Brantley walked down the steps, peered around. “I think we need to take a look inside.”
Reese patted his jacket pocket. “Say the word. It just so happens I brought a key.”
Grinning, Brantley nodded, giving him the go ahead to pick the lock.
He was impressed with Reese’s time. “You might be faster than me.”
“Probably.”
Brantley couldn’t stop the grin as Reese turned the knob, opened the door a fraction, paused to listen, then pushed it open all the way.
While he waited for Reese to deem it safe to enter, Brantley fought the urge to look behind him, to ensure no one was watching. The point was to look like they belonged. They moved together, slipping inside. Brantley closed the door as quietly as he could, drawing his weapon from its holster, clicked off the safety.
There was an odd smell, one he couldn’t place. Not terrible but not appealing, either. Like they sprayed air freshener in a locker room. It put a layer over the mold and body odor combination, but it didn’t quite mask it.
Reese backed up to the far wall of the living room, peeked around the corner, then turned back to meet Brantley’s gaze. He shook his head, a sign there was no one in that room.
Using hand signals, Brantley instructed Reese to take the rooms on the left side of the house. Brantley would head to the right. One room after another, they worked to clear it of people, not making a sound. When they’d determined there was no one else there, Brantley joined Reese in the kitchen.
Rectangular room with the kitchen setup on one end, the breakfast nook on the other. It wasn’t a big space, galley layout, minimal cabinets, small, round table with two chairs and two placemats.
Reese motioned to the items on the table. “Last night’s dinner.”
He glanced at the empty containers from two meals, mirror images of one another on each side, the Styrofoam cups and paper plates in almost obsessive order. Definitely looked like two people ate there.
“You said no one but Collins left?”
“Affirmative.”
If the brother had been there, where was he now?
“Quick scan,” he ordered Reese. “All rooms.”
They separated, Brantley heading back through the living room, down the hall to the left, taking the first bedroom he came to. It looked to be the detective’s. One of those thin, scratchy blankets was shoved aside on the bed, like he’d hopped out and never gave it another thought. The pillow was on the left side of the queen mattress, the indention from someone’s head still visible. Beside the bed, a three-legged table stood, an alarm clock on top. There was no other furniture in the room, no dresser, no chest. Not even an extra pillow.
He continued through the small bathroom, noted the razor and shaving cream sitting on one corner of the sink, the other a cup that held a single toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. Another toothbrush was laid out behind the faucet, still in the package. The medicine cabinet—one of those wooden deals inset into the wall—held a pair of tweezers, some eye drops, a bottle of Tylenol, and another toothbrush, this one with a travel cap. The cabinet beneath the sink had a spray bottle of cleaner, nothing