Page 128 of The Archer Brothers

“Lady, you don’t need a warrant, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Cara pockets her phone as I stifle a laugh. She didn’t call anyone, but she sure as shit made him believe she did.

“Look that chick in the photo, she’s nuts, okay.”

“We know,” Cara says. “What about this woman?”

“Nah, I mean I’ve seen her, but not for a few years. That crazy chick asks about her, too. What’d she do?”

I can’t continue to stand behind Cara, so I move next to her and try not to make any contact with the man behind the counter. I need to hear him clearly. I should’ve worn a hat or something to cover some of my face. This is why I wouldn’t make a good detective.

“Her name is Penelope McCoy and she didn’t do anything wrong, we’re searching for her.”

The man shakes his head. “So’s that crazy chick.”

“When was the last time you’ve seen either one of them?”

“The blonde? Probably five years ago or so, but she wasn’t blonde. She had jet black hair. The one riding the train to cuckoo land, last month.”

“What’d she want when she came in?” Cara asks.

“The same as always. She wants to know who’s paying this one’s storage bill, but seeing as she’s not the police I don’t tell her.”

“Wait, you’re sure the McCoy storage building is being paid for?” I ask as my heart pounds loudly in my chest.

“Uh huh, every month.”

“Who’s paying it?” I take over asking the questions because while Cara is trying to find Frannie to arrest her, I have other priorities.

“Hold on,” he replies as he starts typing away on this computer. “Says here the payee is Amy Jones.”

“Does that name ring a bell?” Cara asks, and I shake my head.

“Where does the payment come from?” I’m starting to shake and my palms are sweating. This is the first solid lead we’ve stumbled upon since I’ve been back and it all started with a dream, remembering the night Penny and I met.

“Hold on, that’s another screen.” He uses the mouse to move screens and types with one finger while I wait impatiently. I’m about to push him out of the way when he stands up and comes back to the counter.

“Says the transaction comes from a TF Bank. That’s all I got,” he says, shrugging.

“She’s on the East Coast,” Cara mutters as I look at her, both confused and impressed that she just knows this information off the top of her head. “We’ll take a look in the storage unit now,” she adds, smiling at the man as he walks around the front with a massive set of keys hanging from his belt loop. He’s slow, fat, and out of shape, and it takes us far too long to get to my unit. The key I have sits in the box, inside the car, and I realize I should’ve brought it with me, along with my gun.

He searches for the right key and starts to lift the door. I close my eyes, not wanting to see what’s inside.

“Do you have video surveillance here?” I can hear Cara ask him.

“Yeah, but it don’t work all the time, and I only save tape for a week before I reuse them.”

“Here’s my card. If the other woman shows up, I want you to call the police first, then me. Understand?”

“Yup,” he says. I hear the faint jingle of his keys as he walks away.

“Are you going to look?” Cara asks, bumping my shoulder. I can tell by the tone of her voice I won’t find my wife and daughter’s bodies in here, even though that’s what I’m suspecting. I shake my head slightly before prying my eyes open.

I start at the end of the unit. The boxes in the back should be our Christmas decorations. Claire’s crib is on the side, saved for another child, and boxes of her baby clothes are pushed up against it. In the middle sits my bike with mine and Penny’s helmets hanging off the handle bars. I fight the urge to cry as I see the belongings that I never thought I would.

“Is that your bike?”

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions in check. The last thing I want to do in cry in front of her. I don’t care if she’s a woman, she’s a Federal agent and they’re as tough as a SEAL … sometimes.

---