Page 42 of Finding Silence
“Gross. Moving on. Portland PD, any word yet?”
“No. I was going to call again in the morning.”
“Ask for Assistant Chief Sondra Hollings, she runs the investigations unit. I’ve dealt with her before. She’ll be able to light a fire under whoever you talked to before.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so,” I assure her. “Okay, next question, how did he get in? You say there was no indication the alarm was actually turned off at any time?”
“No. And nothing visible on the exterior cameras either. I put a call in to Battaglia Security, spoke to Maggie, but she said Roy was on a job in Spokane and not answering his phone. She was going to tell him to call me. I haven’t heard anything yet.”
This is the way investigations sometimes go, it’s a lot of waiting for others to provide the pieces so you can put your puzzle together. It can be frustrating, especially when you’re not blessed with an abundance of patience, which Savvy has not. She takes after her father.
“All right. If you want, I can go chase down Roy,” I offer. “Someone got in somehow, and knowing how that might’ve been done is gonna bring us closer to who would’ve been able to.”
“After you eat,” Brenda announces from the doorway, carrying a big pizza box and a brown paper bag.
I notice the shadows getting longer as the sun slips behind the peaks.
Dusk tends to be longer here in the mountains.
I wolfed down three slices of pizza, picking off as much of the pineapple as I could. Fruit does not belong on pizza, and even vegetables are questionable, if you ask me. Meat and cheese, what else do you need?
Steering my Bronco through the streets of Silence, my first stop is the Battaglia Security office, which looks closed. No lights on and no vehicles in the parking lot. Next I drive over to Mountain View, a more affluent neighborhood on the south side of town, where Roy and Maggie Battaglia live.
Roy’s truck is here but I don’t see Maggie’s SUV when I walk up the driveway to the front door. It takes Roy a few minutes to get the door. His hair is still dripping from a recent shower.
“Sheriff, to what do I owe the honor?” he asks right away.
“Brant is fine, Roy. Savvy carries that title now.”
He waves a hand at me. “I know, but old habits die hard. Come in.”
He steps aside for me to pass. “Don’t trip over the mess,” he warns as I try to circumvent boots and tools and dirty clothes. “I walked in, stripped down where I stood, and beelined into a much-needed shower. Let me quickly tidy this up before Maggie comes home and has a fit. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”
A few minutes later, he joins me in the living room.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Appreciate it, but I’ll pass. I’m actually helping Savvy out. The office is shorthanded. I’m guessing Maggie didn’t get a hold of you?”
He looks confused, confirming it.
“Maggie? No. I spent all day working in a crawlspace underneath one of the historic homes in the Lucas Place neighborhood in Spokane. Trying to install a state-of-the-art alarm system in a house that is nearly two-hundred years old is not an easy task. Why?”
He takes a seat on the armrest of a recliner across from me.
“You installed an alarm for Phyllis Woods. She bought the place from Savvy, just down the road from me.”
He nods. “I did. Is something wrong? Did something happen?”
“At some point yesterday afternoon or evening, someone managed to get into the house and did it without setting off the alarm. But Phil set it when she left, and it was locked when she got home. Here’s the kicker,” I add, sitting forward and leaning my forearms on my knees. “The app on her phone shows no irregularities. No notifications the alarm was turned off at any time while she was gone. There is also nothing visible on the exterior cameras, other than Phil leaving and eventually returning.”
“That’s impossible,” he states adamantly.
“Actually, I was with her, both when she left and when she returned home. Someone was definitely in her house, vandalized her music room among other things.”
Roy looks at me slack-mouthed.
