Page 234 of Rival Hero

“What became of it?”

“No clue. I never heard anything about any traitors being exposed. The last time I checked, Tony was still working trafficking cases nationwide for the bureau.”

Cal stretches his neck and rolls his shoulders to release the tension. “Only one problem with this theory.”

“What’s that?”

“If he’s in DC, then how did he get inside your house?”

I release his hands. “I need my laptop again.”

His phone rings a few minutes later. “It’s the guys.”

My fingers freeze, hovering above the keyboard as I pause my review of flight manifests and airline reservations.

Cal puts the call on speaker. “Jonesy, did you find anyone at her house?”

“No one here, but someone left a present on the bed.”

My heart jumps into my throat. “Please tell me it’s not a severed horse head.”

Jonesy’s booming guffaw rattles the line. “No, you crazy ass. It’s an actual gift. A box with a bow, wrapping paper, and the whole nine yards.”

“You didn’t touch it, did you?” Cal asks. “It could be explosives.”

“Oh, you don’t say, Colombo,” he quips.

“Smart-ass,” Cal retorts.

Jonesy chuckles. “CPD beat cop is here, and he called for a bomb response team and someone to dust for fingerprints.”

“Turn on your camera, Jonesy. Let me see the gift box,” I instruct.

He complies, and Cal’s phone screen lights up with the view from inside my house.

Jonesy explains, “I’m staying by the bedroom door, but I’ll zoom in for you.”

Cal angles the phone to give me a better view of the small package. “Anything look familiar about the wrapping?”

“Nah. Nothing.”

“Did you see a note or anything with it?” Cal asks them.

“Not that we could see,” Jonesy responds.

Cal and I trade frustrated glances, and he wraps up the call. “Thanks, guys. Why don’t you wait outside and let the cops clear the house? But don’t let them take the gift unless they need it for evidence. We might need whatever it is.”

“Copy that. We’ll keep you updated.”

I resume searching for any flight records for Tony. Cal settles beside me, periodically offering suggestions or asking thought-provoking questions.

A few minutes later, my home security system kicks on; the same as it did last time. No sign of foul play, although we know there was.

It’s gotta be Tony. He’s the only one who could be that slick.

An hour later, we still don’t have any new information. Jonesy and Aaron haven’t called, and a check of the cameras in my house shows them talking to the cop on the front stoop. Sadly, I haven’t found any smoking guns related to Tony’s travel history.

Frustrated, I close my laptop and set it on the coffee table. “I’m exhausted.”

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