Page 27 of So Silent

He gave Faith the information she needed, and with a sigh of relief, she hung up and grinned at Michael. “Okay. Got it. We have a suspect.”

Michael grinned. “Outstanding. Let’s go see if we have a killer.”

Faith wasn’t quite ready to hope just yet. Her hope had been dashed too many times for her to take that risk at the moment.

But as they headed toward the car, she said a silent prayer that this time, they would catch their killer.

Chapter Thirteen

That excitement was short-lived. After losing her job at Pacific Audio Solutions, Elena had apparently gotten a job at a local supermarket. When she didn’t answer her home or cell numbers, Faith tried her work phone to have the manager on duty tell her that Elena had taken the day off.

“Got it,” Faith said, suppressing her anger. She buried her face in her palms and sighed.

“Not at work. Not at home. So, what now?” Michael asked.

Faith lifted her eyes above her palms but kept her knuckles planted on her cheekbones. "I think we go to her home anyway. I think we also stake out her workplace. Maybe we call Wanda and get police help to do that."

“Stakeouts? Really?”

“Unless you have a better idea, I really don’t want to hear it right now.”

“I’m not arguing, I’m commiserating. Stakeouts are almost never effective. If Elena figures out we’re looking for her, then she might just not come home. She could disappear into the wind, and we’ll never find her.”

“I’m aware of the risks, Michael. I just don’t know what else to do right now.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Me either. All right. I’ll call Wanda. You want her home or her work?”

“Home. It’s her day off. I doubt she’s going to be near work. We’ll have Wanda stake the supermarket out just in case I’m wrong.”

“Sounds good.”

“That’s not what I’d call it, but it’s something.”

They headed to Elena’s home in a neighborhood of Seattle that wasn’t quite modest enough to be working class and wasn’t quite upscale enough to be wealthy. The houses had the same cookie cutter appearance as the ones in Emily Chen’s neighborhood but had slightly larger yards and stone walkways that meandered unnecessarily to red-brick porches. Michael parked the car across from the house and said, “All right. Now we wait.”

“Yep,” Faith agreed.

“Any idea where a woman her age would be on her day off which is a…” he checked his phone. “Thursday?”

“How old is she?”

“Thirty-eight.”

She shook her head. “No idea. If it was evening, I’d say she was on a date. I guess she still might be on a date if she’s in a long-term relationship.”

“Well, let’s hope not, because if she’s on a date, that date might end with her spending the night at someone else’s house.”

“Better that than out killing someone.”

“Good point.”

A rattling on their window caused both of them to jump. Faith’s hand flew to her pistol in her shoulder holster, but she stopped when she saw a mousy-looking woman of around fifty standing outside their car with a grin that looked almost salacious. It occurred to Faith that they were staking out Elena’s home in a police cruiser. Probably not their slickest move.

Michael rolled down the window, and the woman asked, “Are you guys looking for Elena?”

“And you are?” Michael asked, a little testily, still shaken by the startling knock on the window.

“Mrs. Kendrick,” the woman replied with a smile, “Joanna Kendrick. K E N D R I C K.”

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