Page 9 of Mile High Mystery

“We’ll tell them together,” she said and opened the passenger door.

Zach’s parents lived in a blue-and-white ranch house in a neighborhood full of homes mostly dating from the seventies and eighties, judging by the architecture. Zach led the way to the front door, Shelby just behind him. She looked around, her attitude wary. Was she searching for signs of trouble or the person she thought had followed them here?

He rang the bell and had to wait a long minute before he heard the door unlocking. His father peered out. “Zach!” he said, then looked past him to Shelby. “Is everything okay?”

“Can we come in and talk to you and Mom?” he asked.

By way of an answer, his father stepped aside. Zach moved past him into the living room, Shelby on his heels. Zach’s mother looked up from the sofa, where she was reading, dressed in blue-striped pajamas. While Zach’s dad had his son’s coloring and facial features, on a much smaller frame, his mother was the image of Camille, older and softer. She looked to Shelby. “Hello?” she asked, a question in her voice.

“Mom, Dad, this is Special Agent Shelby Dryden,” Zach said.

His mom’s expression changed to one of alarm at the wordsspecial agent. His father moved to sit beside his wife. “What’s this about? Has something happened?”

Zach sat across from his mother. Shelby took the chair beside him. Zach had tried to think of how to break this news to his parents, but there was no easy way. “You’ve heard of the Witness Protection Program, right?” he asked.

“Oh, Zach.” His mother covered her mouth with one hand. “What’s happened that you have to go into witness protection?”

“Not me, Mom.” He sent a desperate look to his dad, then added, “It’s Camille. All this time we thought Camille was dead, she was in witness protection. Or witness security, they call it. In Maryland.”

“Camille’s alive?” The hope in his mother’s eyes was like a knife to the gut.

“No, Mom, Camille isn’t alive,” he said. “Not anymore.”

Shelby leaned forward. “I’m very sorry. I know this is beyond horrible, but Camille died this morning. She was in Eagle Mountain, under an assumed name. Someone killed her.”

Shelby continued from there, laying out the story as simply as possible and answering his parents’ questions. He watched his mother as the story unfolded. She seemed to get smaller as she absorbed the words, folding in on herself, her face crumpling. He started to go to her, but Shelby got there first. She clasped her hand and led her to the sofa, murmuring to her. Whatever she said must have been the right thing—his mother straightened and filled out again, more herself.

“I can’t believe she was alive all this time,” her father said after the whole story had come out. “And you say she was happy?”

“Yes,” Shelby said. “She had a job she enjoyed, a house she loved, friends and a cat. She missed all of you. But she was happy.”

“Why did she leave all of that to come to Eagle Mountain?” Zach’s dad asked. “What was so important she jeopardized her safety?”

“We’re not sure, but we believe she might have intended to contact Zach.” Shelby glanced at him. “Some things she had heard from friends back in Houston—friends who didn’t realize she was reading their social media posts—made her believe Zach might be in danger.”

“From the Chalk brothers?” his dad asked.

“Yes. Though we haven’t found any evidence that any of you are in danger.”

“Except that Camille is dead,” his dad said.

“Yes,” Shelby said. “She may have been the only target, but we can’t be sure. Which is one reason we’re working with local law enforcement to have extra patrols in this neighborhood. And if either of you see anything suspicious—a person who looks out of place or anything threatening—you should call 911 immediately.”

His mom nodded, her face pinched. “I haven’t noticed anything,” she said.

Zach squeezed her hand. “There’s probably nothing to worry about,” he said. “Everybody is just being extra careful.” He didn’t mention the possibility that they had been followed tonight. Shelby didn’t either.

It was after ten thirty when Zach finally stood. His parents looked tired, and he was going to need to stop for coffee if he had any hope of staying awake for the drive home. “If you have any questions, or if you see anything suspicious, call me,” Shelby said, and handed them a business card. “I’ll be in the area a few more days, and I’m happy to stop by anytime.”

“Thank you.” Zach’s mom embraced her. “It’s so much to take in, but it was good to meet someone who knew Camille.”

“She was my friend,” Shelby said. “And I’m going to do my best to find out who killed her.”

Neither of them said anything else until they were in Zach’s truck again. “I need coffee,” he said.

“Yeah,” she agreed, sounding as drained as he was.

ZACHFOUNDANopen coffee shop on the route they had taken in to town, and they placed an order in the drive-through. Then they headed back out of town. “Thanks for coming with me,” he said after a while. “That would have been a lot harder without you there.”