Chapter 27
Swearing filled the night air. Having a tracker put on Victoria Mitchell’s car was worth what it cost, but discovering it parked at Oak Grove wasn’t good.
That place was a veritable fortress—that was the way Nicolas Sinclair had described it in an interview about the changes he and his wife had made to the grounds of the historical house.
An elaborate security system, ten-foot gates for the quarter-mile drive, and an iron fence across the front.
If that data drive ever surfaced . . . Jenny said she sent it to Mitchell. But if Mitchell had it, why hadn’t she taken it to the police? Unless the podcaster didn’t know she had it. Or maybe Jenny was lying, and Mitchell didn’t have it at all. Either way Victoria Mitchell had to be taken out.
What if the data drive was hidden somewhere at Jenny Tremont’s?
The sheriff had searched the house, but he hadn’t been looking for a data drive.
Chimes from the courthouse knelled the midnight hour in the quiet stillness.
At least there was little chance of running into anyone—Logan Point rolled up its sidewalks at dark.
Probably needed to park on the street behind Jenny’s and stay in the shadows—it was only a short distance to her house.
So far so good. At the door, the key turned easily.
It wasn’t breaking in if you had a key, was it?
Not sure how to explain it if anyone noticed someone was in the house and called Ben Logan.
Just have to stay away from the windows.
It smelled like roses inside the house. Jenny’s signature fragrance. That was a little spooky. Which room to search first? Her bedroom.
Jenny was a minimalist, and she had very few books or trinkets sitting around. It didn’t take long to figure out the data drive wasn’t there. Or in the living room. Or the spare bedroom. Or the hall closet.
Where could she have hidden it?
A light flashed in the window as a car pulled into the drive. Had anyone reported seeing someone inside the house? Stay calm. Hard to do when your heart was about to jump out of your chest. The back door . . . was it locked? Or even shut?
The doorknob rattled. Yes, shut and locked. Whoever it was didn’t try to enter. Probably one of Ben Logan’s deputies checking on the house. Breathe. Car lights flashed again as the deputy backed out of the drive. As soon as he was gone, it would be time to get out of here.
Besides, the data drive wasn’t here. Either Mitchell had it or the kid. Both had to go—it was too risky to chance the drive showing up.