The Reckless Oath We Made - Bryn Greenwood Page 0,31
day on nothing but two stupid ibuprofen pills for the pain. One of the uniformed cops turned and held up his hand.
“Miss, you can’t be—”
“I’m her daughter. Is there a problem?” I said.
I’d thought it would be the police coming to give Mom bad news, but when the guys in suits turned around, it was the U.S. marshals, Mansur and Smith.
“Miss Trego,” Mansur said. “We’re a little concerned about your mother. We’ve been here almost twenty minutes, knocking on the door, and she hasn’t answered.”
“She’s fine. I talked to her on the phone. It’s hard for her to answer the door. She’s an invalid, okay? You met her.” I didn’t intend for it to come out like an accusation, but it was. They’d met her. They had to know how difficult it was for her to get up and come to the door.
“We’re going to need you to let us in.” Mansur had an ink stain on the pocket of his dress shirt, and I focused on that. On remembering that he was a federal marshal, but still just a person.
“Do you have some news for us?” I said, even though my mouth had gone totally dry. I mean, how could they not know? LaReigne was thirty and a petite blonde. The other woman, Molly, was fifty-something and a brunette. I could have looked at the hands for two seconds and known if it was LaReigne. As soon as I thought that, I was glad I hadn’t eaten any breakfast.
“I’m sorry, we don’t,” Mansur said.
“Then I’d rather you didn’t come in. You’re just upsetting her.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option.” The whole time, Mansur had been holding a sheet of paper folded up in thirds. He held it up real casually, like it wasn’t any big deal. “We have a warrant to search the house.”
“A warrant. To search this house?” I pointed at the screen door that was still canted off to one side. “This house?”
“Miss Trego, is there a problem?”
“You saw it yesterday, and you want to search that mess? What do you think is in there?”
“The search warrant explains what we’re looking for. Now, if you’ll unlock the door, I’d prefer to do this with a minimum of distress for your mother.”
“That’s not even possible. Just wait here,” I said, but when I unlocked the door and pushed it open, Mansur stepped in right behind me.
“Zhorzha? Are the police still here?” Mom yelled.
“You remember the marshals? Mansur and Smith?” I said. “They’re here with me. They have a search warrant.”
I waited in the front hall, because I wanted her to have a minute to pull herself together before she had to face the cops, but also because I didn’t want to see the look on her face once she knew what was about to happen.
Mansur was getting impatient, so I started toward the front room as slowly as I could, with him following me. When I got to Mom, she was sitting upright in her chair with her inhaler in her hand.
“Oh my god,” she said in a breathy voice, so I knew she hadn’t used her inhaler yet. Her hand was shaking too much. I took the inhaler, put it up to her lips, and gave her a dose.
“Mrs. Trego, I’m here to serve a search warrant for this house. We’re going to need you to go outside, so we can conduct it,” Mansur said. He’d been standing back a few feet, but he came close enough to hand Mom the search warrant.
“You bastard.” Mom hadn’t quite gotten her breath back, but by the time I got her out of her chair and put her robe on over her nightgown, she was saying it in a much louder voice. I knelt down and tied her shoes while Mansur waited, and then I guided her toward the front door. It took a good twenty minutes to get her to the front porch and, when she stepped out into the daylight, where the other cops were waiting, she’d worked up some real venom.
“You bastards,” she told them. And then, as they helped her down the front steps: “You heartless goddamn bastards. Searching my house when my daughter is still missing!”
“You need to get her something to sit on,” I said to one of the uniforms. There was no way Mom could stand outside until they were done. She was already shaky from walking that far, and who knew what was going on with her blood sugar? I didn’t dare