Page 46 of Unknown

There was nothing but the sound of the wind, whistling through the branches of the nearby tree and rattling a loose piece of sheeting on the roof.

She was about to turn and walk away when she heard a shuffling sound from inside the house. It was faint, but it was definitely there.

She knocked again, guessing that the occupant might be elderly and hard of hearing.

Sure enough, a minute later the door creaked open, revealing a gray-haired woman. She wore a housecoat over her faded floral dress, and her hair was tied back in a bun. She stared at Cora and Gabe, with an expression that seemed to be primarily annoyance.

"There's no need to keep knocking," she said sharply. "It's bothersome and irritating. I'm getting to the door as fast as I can, you know."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," Cora quickly apologized. "We're investigating crimes on the military base north of here. Do you know a man named Boris Upton who used to live in the house next door?"

The woman frowned, as if considering the question. "Upton? Yes, I remember him. He used to come around here from time to time, looking for odd jobs. Haven't seen him in a while though."

"Do you know where he moved to?"

The woman shook her head. "I have no idea. Good riddance to him, I say. He was an uncaring neighbor. Coming and going at all hours of the night, slamming his door. When I saw Abel moving him out, I was pleased to be seeing the back of him."

Cora and Gabe exchanged a glance.

"Wait, Abel? You know who moved him?"

"Yes. Abel lives in the big house on the corner. He has a pickup, and most people use him for moving. He knows everyone in the area, he’s everyone’s friend," she said sourly.

Cora felt relief wash over her.

They had a new lead. Thanks to this elderly woman, they at least knew who had helped to move Upton. And that might just give them a lead, quicker than waiting for the FBI systems to update.

"I appreciate that, ma'am," she said politely, but the elderly woman glared at her.

"And I don't appreciate disturbance. Next time, if there is one, knock once."

She slammed the door in Cora's face with a surprising amount of force.

Feeling duly chastised, Cora glanced at Gabe.

"Impatience will be our downfall," he quipped, and she felt grateful for the moment of lightness in this deadly chase. The moment of camaraderie. Gabe was good at that. He had a steady mind, and a knack for boosting morale.

At least they could share humor, even in what seemed like the darkest and most frustrating times. And having high morale and good levels of confidence made a difference. The SEAL in Cora knew that to be true. High morale always meant exercises were more successful. They also meant a unit would be less likely to give up or surrender. It boosted the inner confidence and belief, that little voice that told them they were on the right track and could do it.

And she and Gabe weren’t going to give up. They were going to go and do it.

"Let's go see if Abel is at home," she said. "If we knock on his door - once - he might be willing to tell us more."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Things were looking up. Cora felt optimistic that they might get answers from this local man who’d helped with Boris’s move. But she knew they’d have to be careful when asking someone who they’d been told was ‘everybody’s friend.’

Loyalty toward other locals could easily trump the need for honest answers when two investigators turned up at the front door.

Knowing the questions would have to be asked carefully, she and Gabe got back in the car, and within less than a minute, they were standing outside Abel's front door.

This was one of the best maintained homes in the tiny town, she saw. The door was freshly painted; the yard was neat. A bright blue pickup was parked in the driveway. Abel was at home.

Cora knocked on the door. Once only. She’d learned her lesson earlier.

And then she waited.

Heavy footsteps approached, and tall, burly man opened it. He had a balding head, a bushy beard, and was wearing an oversized red flannel shirt that hung off his broad shoulders.

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