Page 27 of What We May Be

Tracy’s blue eyes cut to him. “Who are you?”

He withdrew is badge and flipped it open, flashing his credentials. She looked impressed, until he said his name. “Agent Sean Hale.”

Sean didn’t think eyes could roll that hard. “Ah, the Sean Hale, I presume. Of course you’re here too.” She swung a weary glare back at Abel and Charlie. “My life is ruined. Again. I’m sure Trevor and your lot have something to do with it.” She turned on her heel and stormed inside, shoving her way through the solid wall of Diego and Jaylen. She hurried through the brightly lit foyer and into what Sean guessed was a powder room under the stairs and slammed the door shut.

“Well,” Charlie said, “that went about as well as I expected.”

“Bad blood?” Sean asked as they crossed the threshold into the foyer.

Abel half laughed, half choked. “Understatement of the year.”

Sean would have queried further except Diego and Jaylen had joined them and additional gossip seemed inappropriate, given the circumstances.

“How bad?” Charlie asked the officers.

Jaylen covered his mouth and gulped behind his fingers.

Diego patted the younger officer’s back. “About like the last one.” Which Jaylen had only seen in crime scene photos. This case was probably one of the more gruesome in his time with the department, considering. “Maggie’s up there with the techs.”

“When did the call come into the station?” Sean asked.

“Five thirty, when Tracy got home from work.” He shifted his attention to Charlie and Abel. “You mind if we step outside for some air?”

“Go.” Charlie waved them out, then turned a grim face to her uncle. “Go get Trevor. Bring him to the station.”

The chief shifted on his feet, a far more subtle movement than Sean spinning around, slack-jawed. “You don’t think he had anything to do with this?” He’d been gone a while, but surely Trevor hadn’t changed that much.

“No, of course not,” Charlie said. “I just don’t want him hearing about this from anyone else.” She glanced around his shoulder to Abel. “He’s got a class at eight. He should be up and about.”

“You got it, sugar.”

“We should call city hall too. Mister Mayor will want an update.”

“I’ll get Wally on it,” Abel said, departing with the phone to his ear already.

Sean inhaled deep, cracked his neck, and tapped his toes like he would at the baseball plate. Getting ready for whatever pitch was thrown their way. He started for the stairs, but Charlie’s hand in the crook of his arm stopped him. It was the first time she’d touched him since last night, and heat cascaded from the spot. “I need to make a call,” she said, and he struggled to focus on anything but that simple touch. “I’m not gonna make it to Wilmington by ten. Any pointers for dealing with Conder?”

Thatsnapped him out of it. Fuck, her interview was this morning. She was right; there was no way she was going to make it. “Explain it’s for a case,” he said. “He values commitment to the job. He’ll understand.”

“Thank you.” She released his arm, the warmth lingering, continuing to smolder, stoked by the fact she’d asked him for help with Conder and with the crime scene. He’d take those nuggets of trust. Would work for more. While she detoured into the dining room off the foyer, Sean busied himself inspecting the front door. No sign of forced entry. He walked down the hallway to the back of the house. No damage to the patio door either. Off the kitchen, the mudroom was a mess to tiptoe through—the washer had overflowed, and sudsy water covered the floor—but there was no sign anyone had tampered with that door either.

So a window… or a key… or a lock pick. Or Julian had left a door unlocked. On his way out of the room, Sean noticed the alarm panel and made a mental note to request records.

“Sean!” Charlie shouted from the foyer.

“Sorry,” he said, hustling back to her. “Was just checking the doors.” With a pair of duty officers milling around the living room, he carefully worded his next question. “All good with your appointment?”

“Moved it to tomorrow.” She climbed the stairs ahead of him. “You find anything?”

“No signs of forced entry. We should get the alarm company records.”

“I’ll get Diego on it.”

“Laundry room was flooded. Looked like the washer overflowed. Maybe someone trying to hide something?”

“Zero trace evidence left at the first crime scene,” Charlie said. “Just the note.”

“Which they left here too?”

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