Page 20 of Bad Mother

“Where are you living right now?” he asked. “Did you buy a place?”

“No. I’m just renting. A condo over on Arlington with a questionably shaped cactus out front,” she said on a short laugh. “It’s not bad but definitely nowhere nearswanky.”

Gavin chuckled. They got out of Sienna’s car, and he followed her up the steps to the door on the second floor that had caution tape stretched across it. She glanced around as she stuck the key in the lock. It was too bad this apartment faced the side of a building and the unit directly next door was currently unoccupied. A nosy neighbor or ten might have come in handy.

Sienna opened the door, then ducked under the tape and indicated that Gavin do so too. It smelled just as pleasant as she remembered, which was to say it stank to high heaven, and she noticed Gavin drawing back slightly at the stench.

To his credit, he didn’t complain.

“A kid lives here?” he asked, his eyes on the broken action figures lying on the floor.

“He did. He’s with social services now.” She didn’t note his reaction but went for the tennis ball amid the mess.

She’d put a couple of pairs of gloves in her pocket, and she took one out now and donned it before picking up the ball. She shook it, but no sound came from within. It felt like any ordinary tennis ball. But now that she thought about it, what was a tennis ball doing in this apartment? This one looked brand-spanking new, so she doubted Trevor played with it. She knew very little about the victim so far, other thanwhat she’d done for work and how she’d lived. But even so, the woman didn’t strike Sienna as someone who had played tennis in her leisure hours or socialized with those who did. Peering at the ball more closely, she swore she could see a hairline slice that encircled the middle of the ball.Holy shit.If she hadn’t brought the ball to a few inches from her face, she’d have never seen it. She gripped both sides and gently pulled, and the ball came apart with a cracking sound as the glue that had been used broke, one half held in each of her hands. She looked up at Gavin, who had stepped closer and was now staring at the opened ball in her hands.

“Someone cut it in half and then glued it back together,” she said. She felt the speed of her pulse increasing, the way it did during a breakthrough in a case.Excitement. Tempered victory.She turned the two halves over so she could see inside the hollow shell and noticed the key taped to the inside of the left half. No wonder it hadn’t rattled when she’d shaken the ball. She set the ball down and removed the key, then held it between her fingers and peeled the tape aside. The number 315 was written in black Sharpie on the head of the key. Sienna’s eyes met Gavin’s, and a prickle went up her spine. The zip code in the cards might have been a coincidence. This was most definitely not. Someone had pointed the police, and more specifically her, in this direction and then left what appeared to be a clue in the place she’d been led. Someone was playing a game. Leading law enforcement...somewherefor purposes unclear.

“Does the number mean anything to you?” Gavin asked.

“No.” She looked around the overcrowded room for the second time, her gaze hitting on different items. The criminalists had been there earlier and taken a few more items—specifically, Reva’s bedsheets, on the off chance they could find some DNA that might point to a suspect. They’d sprayed luminol for blood as a matter of protocol, even though Reva’s murder had not been of the bloody variety. They’d tested and collected and done their necessary due diligence, even though itseemed unlikely she’d met foul play at her apartment. According to her grandson, Reva had never come home at all. On top of that, she’d been wearing her uniform when her body was found, which spoke to the fact that whatever had happened to her had occurred soon after she’d left work.

Gavin was looking around, too, leaning over this and that. She watched him for a moment, noting his curious and slightly troubled expression, though she didn’t detect judgment in it. That wouldn’t have necessarily been the reaction to this sty of an apartment from justanycard tycoon who now led a security team in one of the largest and most posh casinos in the nation. No doubt he lived on the top floor in some steel-and-glass high-rise condo nearby and slept in silk sheets. Not that she wanted to think about what sheets he slept in, but the point was that Gavin Decker was a long way from those who lived likethis.

That hadn’t always been the case, although Gavin’s mother, Mirabelle, had kept a clean and comfortable house. If Sienna closed her eyes and pictured it, she could still smell the strawberry potpourri that had sat on the coffee table and the lemon disinfectant Mirabelle had used to wipe her counters, humming sweetly as she did so. It wasSienna’strailer that had resembled the cluttered, dusty mess they were now standing in. And though Sienna had tried her best to keep things tidy, it was a fool’s errand when one cohabited with those who could only be classified as—and she didn’t think this was harsh or unfair, merely truth—slobs. Mostly, Sienna had tried to stay away. Beinggonewas better for her mental and emotional health than a temporarily clean trailer.

No wonder she felt so fiercely about the little boy who had lived here and now resided in a state-run group home. In many ways, she’dbeenhim.

And if not for Mirabelle’s influence, God only knew what would have become of her.

“Look at this cup,” Gavin said, bringing her fully from her random, swirling memories. Sienna turned, her gaze landing on the Starbucks cup from the side table where the tennis ball had been, the one that saidAllegrain black Sharpie.

“Don’t touch anything,” she reminded him.

“I won’t.”

“What about it?” she asked.

He bent closer. “There’s no residue in it. It looks like it never held anything. I mean, maybe water. If it’s been here awhile, I guess whatever might have been left could have evaporated. But it almost looks brand new.”

Sienna leaned in, too, their heads close as she corroborated what he’d said. She picked it up with her glove, turning it this way and that. The number on the key was also written in black Sharpie. Sienna felt a twinge in her gut as an idea occurred to her. She set the cup back down. She’d bag that and the tennis ball before she left. Because she had gloves on, she asked Gavin, “Will you use your phone to see if there’s a 315 Allegra Street at that 89512 zip code?”

Gavin removed his phone and did as she asked. He looked up after a moment, his gaze laser focused on her. “There is.”

She let out a breath of tempered excitement. It might be something. But it might not. And if itwassomething, that something could be bad... or dangerous. Three fifteen Allegra Street. She took her gloves off slowly, put them back in her pocket, and removed her own phone. She dialed Kat again, and she answered, sounding slightly breathless. “Hey.”

Sienna turned away from Gavin. “Hey, I’ve been calling you.”

“Sorry. I turned my phone down while I was with the computer tech guys. I’m headed to my desk now.”

Sienna wandered into the kitchen and stood on the other side of the wall. “I figured. Did they find anything?”

“Yeah, and it points to exactly what Reva’s boss thought.” Sienna heard a door close, and the echoey nature of Kat’s voice became normal. She must have left the stairwell. “She was in regular touch with a dealer.”

“Okay. Well, that could be a lead, right?”

“It could be, only it doesn’t look like she’d made any specific plans to meet up with him the day she was murdered,” Kat said. “The other thing that points away from the dealer,” she went on, “is that if it was him who murdered her and then fed Trevor, why didn’t he take the phone from her apartment? His information and specifics as to his line of work is all right there. He’d have to know that.”

“Except her phone was in the bedroom,” Sienna said, thinking for a moment. “Then again, if it was him who killed her, he’d know it wasn’t on her person. He’d know to at least look around her apartment for it.”

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