Page 59 of Twin Threats In Austin
“Not in my mind,” she said. “The evidence is too strong against him.”
“Except that he has a twin brother,” Benny said. “I did some digging and found out the mother dropped the other twin off at a fire station.” He shook his head. “Pretty coldhearted if you ask me.”
“I don’t know how you would pick which twin to keep,” Rochelle said. Motherhood had never been something she’d craved. Except an image of Camden holding their infant had crept into her thoughts. It was projection, she decided. Nothing more. “Maybe there’ll be something inside that can tell us more about what makes Asher tick.”
“I hope so,” Benny said. “Losing you isn’t an option.” As he said those last words, Camden came walking up. He introduced himself. His tense expression reminded her of the danger they were in just by standing out in the open.
After Camden and Benny shook hands, Camden said, “The others are almost here. We can wait or we can deliver this warrant and let them catch up.”
“There’s four of us here,” she said. “That should be enough to knock on a door.”
The probability that Asher would answer was low. He most likely wasn’t home. He could be anywhere.
“Oh, one more thing,” Benny said. “Foley’s mother died of cirrhosis of the liver five years ago.”
“Alcoholic?” Rochelle asked, since it was the most common reason for the disease.
“Sissy Foley was in and out of jail for prostitution and drug possession,” Benny said.
“Doesn’t sound like someone who paid attention to her child,” Rochelle stated. “Let’s go see what kind of mess she left behind.”
The morning sun beat down on Rochelle’s face despite the cool breeze. The sun in Texas was as relentless as the heat that accompanied it. Nerves on edge, she headed toward the door. Camden walked in front of her while Benny came up from behind. The fact she was being sandwiched by two tall, broad people wasn’t lost on her. They were forming a protective barrier in case the shooter took aim.
As much as she could hold her own, arguing with these two stubborn people would only waste precious time. Since they’d been here for more than fifteen minutes already, any residents of the trailer would be alerted to their presence.
Camden knocked on the door. No answer. He demanded anyone inside should open the door and then identified himself.
The second round of knocks came with the warning they were about to enter the residence with or without permission.
One last look at everyone gathered around the door was all Camden needed before trying the door handle. Locked. He stepped aside as an officer brought forth a battering ram. With one thrust, the door split open.
The next couple of seconds happened in a flurry of coordinated activity. All four law-enforcement officers rushed in as a pair joined them from behind. Everyone fanned out, weapons drawn.
Stench from stacked pizza boxes and dirty dishes in the sink hit full force as Rochelle stepped inside the dwelling. The brown carpet was a relic from the seventies. There was an equally old brown-and-yellow checkered sofa sitting four feet from a flat-screen TV on a console. A TV tray was positioned as a makeshift coffee table.
In the kitchen, there was a broken-down oak table and pair of chairs in equally bad shape. Not that it was used for eating. Stacks of pizza boxes with flies buzzing around them filled the round table.
After scanning the living room and kitchen, Camden signaled for a set of officers to take the hallway to the right, where typically there would be two small bedrooms and a bath. He led Rochelle and a uniform across the kitchen into the adjoining master suite.
Flies buzzed around, scattering as the trio blazed through the kitchen.
“What the hell?” Camden muttered as he entered the bedroom. He immediately headed toward the closet and then the bathroom as Rochelle cleared the bedroom. Instead of a bed, there was a twin-size mattress on the floor pushed up against one wall. On the other side of the room was an old desk that was propped up on one of the legs with old magazines. A ragged babydoll was on the floor. A blown-up picture of a woman that had been used as target practice with darts was taped to one wall. Darts littered the nasty, beer-stained carpet.
The wall above the desk was covered with taped photographs of…
Rochelle moved closer to get a better look. Kage?
Had to be.
“Is that what I think it is?” Camden asked as he cut across the room to join her.
“Kage walking into the Laundromat,” Rochelle said. “Kage walking into the nightclub.”
“Asher has been stalking his twin,” Camden said. “Why?”
“They were separated at birth and the mother kept Asher,” Rochelle said. “Benny said Kage was dropped off at a fire station.”
Camden studied the battered picture of the woman on the wall next to them. “I’m guessing this is Sissy.”
