Page 101 of Rules of Engagement

I readied my keys and decided I really didn't want to go inside. I really didn't want to find Damien rummaging in my home or turning it over in the hopes of finding cash. If I saw him doing that, it would be so awful. It would mean every horrible supposition we had was real, which made me feel terrible. I didn't want to believe it could be true, and I hoped it wasn't, but the facts were real. He was suspended from the force and connected to crimes both here and in Boston. Damien hadn't returned to the police station and his still switched-off phone went directly to voicemail. Wherever he was, he didn't want anyone to know about it. There was no denying that wasn't normal.

"Let's go get some cheeseburgers," I decided.

"Cheeseburgers?" Maddox raised a questioning eyebrow.

"A nice, fast food meal, somewhere across town. Maybe a milkshake."

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm procrastinating."

"We could have picked up food on the way."

"We decided it was imperative we came here immediately. Plus, I was nauseous on the way over. Now I realize I'm hungry." Hungry and nauseous. It wasn't my favorite combination.

"We can get cheeseburgers after."

I stuck the key in the lock. "Okay," I said. "But it has to be super-sized and I need fries." The door opened without my turning the lock and my stomach lurched. "And I want some donuts after," I decided. If this was going to be a terrible day at the end of a terrible week, I might as well indulge.

"I will take you to every fast food joint in town," said Maddox. "You can go nuts."

"The door was unlocked," I said, pushing it. We stepped into the lobby and I kept my eyes up so I didn't have to see the site where Solomon was slumped. Would I ever not see it? I wondered, or would I think about that moment every time I walked in the door? Would Solomon mind if I bought new paint? Or ripped up the floor? Or burned the house to ashes?

"Let's do this quietly," said Maddox. "Remember, we don't want to panic him."

A loud thud came from upstairs, then another one, and a ripping sound. "It sounds like someone's tearing down the drywall," I said before I gulped. "Solomon's secret closet?" I whispered.

"I hope not." Maddox crept forward, stepping onto the first stair. "Any creaks I need to know about?" he whispered.

"No." I followed him as he moved stealthily, keeping low as we reached the top. He bent on one knee and took a quick look before moving back to where we were both concealed. Banging came from my bedroom, then footsteps that moved from the bedroom into the guest room. I listened to the sound of someone rifling through the closet and opening up all the drawers. There was a grunt of frustration and the feet began moving again, returning to the bedroom.

"It's just one person," I whispered and Maddox nodded.

"Stay here," he said, holding his gun up. "I'm going to confront him. Anything happens, you run and don't look back."

"But..."

"No buts. You don't have a gun and I do." He waved for me to be quiet then stepped up, straightening as he walked onto the landing and raised his gun.

I edged up two steps and, with my head close to the ground, watched his progress. He made it three steps before he stopped.

"Don't move," said another male voice. "What are you doing here, Special Agent Maddox?"

"Looking for you, Damien," said Maddox. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my brother's house."

"Put down the gun and let's talk."

"What is there to talk about?"

"Let's start with why you have a gun in your hand that you're pointing at a federal agent?"

"You're pointing a gun at me. I'm defending myself from a trespasser. Not exactly a strange thing to be afraid of since my brother was shot here only days ago."

"You know that wasn't me, and we both know you're involved in that shooting. Your own brother? That's cold, Damien."

"No, what's cold is my brother not bailing me out when he knew I was in trouble. Are you here alone?"

---