Page 59 of 3rd Tango
I’m convinced Sven killed Evelyn and buried her body with the others—he probably killed them as well—if only I could figure out why. Mom, however, still believes Gayle is our killer.
“We can’t go back and snoop around. Even if we found a solid piece of evidence, it would be thrown out in court. You understand that, right, Mom? And if you buddy up to Marie and start asking questions about Evelyn? That could open a whole other can of worms. I don’t want you anywhere near her or Gayle. Please, for me.”
Her excitement fades. “What about Meg? She already has a sort of friendship with Marie. Maybe she could go over under the pretense of talking art and snoop around.”
Heaven help me. If Marie and Gayle are dangerous, I’m not throwing my sister into their lair. “I’ll figure it out.” I open the door. “I just need time to think through how we’re going to find the evidence.”
Mom returns to the kitchen to finish the coffee, and I’m looking for my usual outfit of slacks and a blouse, when my doorbell rings again.
Damn it. Who is it, now?
Maybe Meg saw Mom pull in and has come over to join us. I consider letting Mom answer the door, but under the circumstances, I don’t want more visitors outside of my sister, and Mom will let anyone in. After the shooting, and the fact that one of my suspects is sitting in my dining room, I’m a little on edge.
“Do you want me to get that?” Mom calls.
I burst from the bedroom and practically run to the front of the house. “I’ve got it! Don’t answer the door!”
I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t answer it myself, I realize. This time, however, I look out the peephole.
It’s not Meg on my doorstep, but the last person I want to see right now.
Taylor Sinclair is standing there with an older guy, looking as uncomfortable as I feel. I have the sinking feeling I know why they’re here.
I glance at my pjs, thinking about the fact I need to run a brush through my hair, and the left side of my face looks like I was in a bar fight.
Mom comes up behind me. “Who is it?” she half-whispers.
I snap out of my mental conundrum. “The Feds.”
“Oh, no! What do they want?”
“Nothing good.”
Opening the door, I use my surprising attire and body to block them from looking in. “Agent Sinclair,” I say professionally. “What are you doing here?”
Her shoulders are stiff, chin up. She’s all agent, but her eyes apologize. A hand motions at the man slightly behind her and to the left. “This is Assistant Agent in Charge, Jeremy Lind. My boss.”
Lind puts his hands on the belt at his waist. The heat of the day is making him sweat, and he’s a good thirty pounds overweight, which isn’t helping. He’s no taller than Taylor, bald, and his sunglasses show me unicorns in their mirrored reflection.
“Ms. Schock.” He’s chewing gum, and smacks it, before he says, “We want to close this case pronto, and it’s important we notify next of kin. I’m told you’ve identified someone related to Evelyn Jacoby? We’d like the DNA report and the information on this relative.”
The earlier feeling of my hackles rising returns. I was already planning to turn this information over to them, but this feels like they’re piggybacking on our work to make their job a whole lot easier.
I glance at Taylor, an accusation, but her face pleads with me to cooperate. She wouldn’t shut us out completely if she was in charge, but Lind will.
A fight requires more energy than I have today, yet I can’t help but borrow some of Mom’s battle armor. “I’m happy to share it, Special Agent Lind, as long as my sister can be there to ask questions concerning our investigation in regards to who Jacoby was friends with.”
A door slams and Meg strides over, as if she’s ready to join the discussion.
Lind smacks his gum and smiles as if I’m dense and he has to explain things to me. “Your investigation,”—he says the word with disdain, letting me know he finds being a PI a long fall from an FBI agent—“is not our concern. You’re free to talk to this brother at any time, but only after we’ve interviewed him. You understand we’re still looking into the disappearance of nearly a million dollars and if there’s any chance he knows something, it’s important we get to him first.”
Not only is Mom looking over my shoulder, I sense Al joining her. Taylor and Lind’s gazes stray to a spot behind me. There’s an exchange of nods. Meg’s body language goes into defense mode.
Lind continues, the smacking and smiling growing annoying enough, I wish his bald head would explode. “Ms. Schock.” He makes sure not to call meformer agentordoctor—both titles I’ve earned—in order to put me in my place again. “I’m instructing you to stay clear of Evelyn Jacoby’s family member or you’ll face charges for interfering in a federal case.”
Mom sucks in a breath, Meg glances at me. Al says, “That’s not necessary, ASAC Lind, is it? We’re not interfering with your investigation, and we’d appreciate it if you don’t interfere with ours. After all, the Schock sisters are the ones who’ve done the legwork for you. A little professional courtesy would be nice.”
To say I’m shocked that Al’s taking our side is an understatement. There’s a part of me that still likes this guy, no matter how hard I try not to. My suspicion he’s behind the shooting dims.
