Page 46 of Tough as Steele

“Bingo.” He pulled the spare key out and shook his head. “When will people learn not to hide spare keys in such obvious places?”

“Never, if what we find is typical.”

He unlocked the door, put on his booties, and they drew their weapons before entering.

“Police,” he called out. “Anyone home?”

The only response was the hum of the refrigerator as it started up. Nate flipped on the overhead light, revealing a nearly empty living room with a brick fireplace, a faded brown sofa, and a gamer’s chair perched in front of a huge television. Sixty inches or more, Nate thought. The place carried the lingering odor of a recent fire, the pile of ash in the firebox the likely source.

“Moving on,” Londyn said as she stepped into a hallway leading to the left. “Police! Anyone here?”

Nate headed into the dining area and kitchen and quickly cleared them. “All clear down here.”

He started down the hallway. The first bedroom was set up like an office, and Londyn was standing over the desk looking at something.

“A letter to his mother,” Londyn said. “Who writes letters these days anyway?”

“Unusual. What’s it say?”

She studied the page. “Basics. Like he’s fine and the weather is unusually warm. Then he says he’s coming into some real money this week, and he’ll be out to visit her soon. Maybe buy her a house.”

“Ransom money,” Nate said. “This letter can be used to compare the handwriting to the note on Mimi’s pillow and tell us if he’s part of the kidnapping plot.”

“We can’t take it.”

“But we can take pictures of it and hope that’s enough to do the comparison.”

She cocked her head and looked at him. “We’re detectives, for crying out loud. We shouldn’t have to be slinking around like this. I think it would be a lot easier if we tried to get the Multnomah detective to work with us.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Then we can use the photos of the letter, I guess.”

“It’ll take precious hours to get a task force together with the Multnomah detective. Hours Mimi might not have.”

“But it would give us temporary powers during this investigation. It would be good to have arrest and investigative rights in Multnomah County.”

“Sure, but the red tape that comes with a task force might overpower that. What if we try the photo comparison first? Task force second?” He tried not to let his frustration enter his tone, but he didn’t like depending on anyone to help him. Not Londyn. Not this other detective. Now that he’d left the teams, he liked to work alone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She kept her focus on him. “You’re very good at hiding things. Your expression is often blank and unreadable. But now? Now you’re transmitting something. Maybe frustration.”

“Iamfrustrated. I’m used to working alone.”

“And here I am tagging along, and it’s a hardship for you.”

“Well, yeah. Kind of. I don’t work by committee. I work by trusting my gut and moving on.”

“And what does your gut say here?”

“Besides that I like having you with me—not the detective, but the woman—and you’re very distracting?”

Her mouth fell open.

He hadn’t planned to say that. Made him weak. Vulnerable. And that was the last thing he wanted for himself. “Not what you expected me to say, is it?”

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