Chapter 46
Ridge
The townhouse next to Rowan Howe’s is one of those neat little places with a clipped lawn and a row of potted herbs lining the front step. I take the path up to the door, give the brass knocker two firm raps, and wait.
Footsteps approach from inside. A female opens the door. She’s average height for a shifter, which makes her taller than most human females.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“I’m Commander Ridge from Draig Security.” I pull out my credentials and hold them out for her to see. “I’m sorry to bother you. I have a few quick questions if you can spare me a few minutes.”
“I suppose. What’s this about?”
“Your neighbor. The male who lives next door, on this side.” I gesture to my left.
“Rowan?” Her shoulders relax a fraction. “Yes, what about him?”
“Are you on friendly terms with him?”
“Friendly enough.” She shrugs. “He waves when I bring the bin out. We’ve had a few conversations about the trash collection schedule, and that one time the irrigation system flooded the path between our places. I don’t really know him, though. He keeps to himself. Why? Is everything okay?”
“He’s not in any trouble,” I tell her. “I’m just trying to confirm a few details to exclude him from an investigation. May I ask where you were last Wednesday evening? The eleventh.”
She tilts her head and thinks about it.
“Wednesday. Um.” She glances past me at the street. “I went to the gym after work. I’m pretty much always at home in the evenings from seven.” She gives me a smile. “I usually flash-fry up steak on a Wednesday evening, and last week was no different.”
“And was Rowan home?”
She has to think about that one.
“His car was in his usual spot when I pulled in. I remember because I had to swing wide to get into mine. He parks a little crooked sometimes.” She gives a small shrug.
“And he had the television on loud. I could hear it through the wall while I was at the stove. He likes those sports shows. The ones with the commentators yelling at each other.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t mind.”
“Do you remember what time the television went off?”
“It wasn’t late. Maybe nine. Half past at the latest. He turned in early. At least, I’m pretty sure he turns in soon after he switches off the television.”
“Okay. And what about you?”
“I went to bed around midnight. I watched television for a while after dinner.” She pauses. “When I closed the drapes in my bedroom, his car was still in the same spot. I noticed because I was thinking about how I needed to wash mine, and his looked freshly washed.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
“One more thing. Did he go out during the night?”
“I doubt it very much.” She nods. “I’m both an awful sleeper and I have excellent hearing. My bedroom window is right by his parking spot. He sometimes works the early shift, and he wakes me up every time he leaves. It can be annoying.
“Would you mind showing me your bedroom? I just want to confirm the layout.”
She hesitates for a second, then nods.
“Sure. Come in.”
I follow her into a small entryway. She leads me down a short hallway, past a kitchen with a wooden bowl of lemons on the counter, to a bedroom at the back. The bed is unmade, the duvet pulled halfway off. She seems briefly embarrassed and yanks it back into place.
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s fine.”
She crosses to the window and pulls the drapes back. I step up next to her and look out. Her room shares a wall with Howe’s place. The parking strip runs along the side of the building, and there’s one spot directly across from her bedroom, just as she said.
“That’s his,” she says, pointing.
There’s a small white sedan parked in the spot now.
“I take it that’s his car?”
“Yes. He drives a Toyota. He’s had it forever.”
“All right.” I take a step back. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed.”
“He’s a nice guy,” she says as we walk back toward the front door.
“He’s not under any suspicion at this point.” I keep my voice easy. “It was a routine check. I appreciate you taking the time.”
“Anytime.”
She stands in the doorway as I head back down the path. I get into the SUV.
Howe was more than likely home. I can’t rule him out completely, but he will drop down to the bottom of my suspect list.
Yesterday, I sat in my office until well after midnight, going through every second of the CCTV footage from the streets around Robyn’s apartment building, yet again.
I worked through it again this morning. I had headshots of all twelve people on the access list spread across my desk, and I matched faces against every figure that walked through the frame in the seventy-two hours leading up to the break-in.
I got sweet fuck all. None of their vehicles were there. I couldn’t pick up on a face, either.
I check my watch. Patel’s address is across town in one of the nicer suburbs. I called his wife half an hour ago to arrange a meeting while her husband is at work. I need to get over there.
His street is wide and tree-lined, with big yards and the kind of houses that have water features by the front door. Patel’s is a two-story house with a steep tiled roof and a manicured strip of lawn out front.
I park at the curb and walk up the path.
The door opens before I’ve even reached the top step.
She’s tiny and in her mid-forties, even though she doesn’t look it. She’s wearing a green dress. Her hair is loose about her shoulders and cut about halfway down her back.
“Hello.” She gives me a quick, warm smile. “You must be Ridge.”
“Mrs. Patel?”
“One and the same. Please, come in. And please, call me Avani. Mrs. Patel makes me sound like my mother-in-law.” She gives a small laugh as she steps back to let me in.
“Avani. Thanks.”
The entryway opens onto a wide hall with polished wooden floors and a console table topped with framed family photos. There are children in most of them. Two boys, one in a soccer kit, the other much younger. Patel grins out from one of the frames with his arm around her.
“Come through to the kitchen. Can I get you something? Herbal tea? I just put the kettle on.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Are you sure? I have a lovely chamomile-lavender blend a friend sent from the Mainland.”
“I appreciate it. I really am fine.”
She leads me through to a bright kitchen and gestures to one of the stools, and I sit. She perches on the one opposite.
“So, what can I help you with, Commander?”
“Ridge is fine.”
“Ridge, then.” She tilts her head. “I have to admit, you’re making me nervous. Is everything okay? Is Raj all right?”
“He’s fine. I’m just following up on a few things from a conversation I had with him yesterday. It is standard procedure. Just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. I wanted to confirm a couple of details about his whereabouts last Wednesday evening.”
“Wednesday.” She thinks about it. “That was a quiet night for us. He had the early shift on Thursday, so we ate dinner around seven, watched an episode or two of something, and went to bed around nine. Maybe a little after, but not by much. I was really sleepy.”
The story matches Patel’s almost word-for-word.
“You both went to bed and slept until the morning?”
“Yes.” She nods.
“Could your husband have gotten up later in the night? After you were asleep. Could he have left the house without you knowing?”
She shakes her head almost before I’ve finished the question.
“No, I’m sure I would have woken up. Besides, why would he get up and leave the house?” She pauses. “He didn’t, I’m sure of it.”
“Has he been acting strangely lately?”
She lets out a long breath.
“Yes, actually. He’s been a mess this past week or two. Not sleeping. Snapping at the kids over nothing. He came home yesterday and bit my head off over a load of laundry, which is so unlike him. He apologized about ten minutes later, of course. He felt awful.”
“Do you know what’s behind it?”
“Work.” She says it without missing a beat.
“The situation between the islands has put everyone at the hospital on edge. If things keep moving in this direction, the surgical workload there will drop dramatically. And Raj is acutely aware of that. He has talked of nothing else since the bomb dropped about the vaccinations. He’s terrified he’s going to lose his position.
We have two kids in private school and a mortgage on this place that isn’t small. I don’t work. He carries everything.”
“That makes sense.”
“And then on top of all of that, Dr. Keller…” She trails off and shakes her head.
“He’s beside himself about Robyn. Truly beside himself.
He has the highest regard for her. He often says he wouldn’t be where he is today if it weren’t for her.
She brought him on. She mentored him. He insists she’s innocent.
He’s said it to me a dozen times since she was arrested, Ridge. He thinks you people have it wrong.”
I keep my face flat.
“That’s been said to me a few times today.”
“Well. I just thought I’d add my voice to the chorus.” She gives me a small apologetic smile. “Even though I know it’s not my place.”
“It’s appreciated.” I smile. “Off the record,” I say, leaning back a little. “I noticed those loafers you got him for Christmas. The Italian ones. I really like them. I told him as much yesterday.”
Her whole face brightens.
“You noticed?” Her hand comes up to her chest. “Oh, they are gorgeous, aren’t they? The craftsmanship is unreal.”
“They’re great. I wanted to ask you where you got them. I’d love to grab a pair next time I’m on the Mainland.”
“They’re from this tiny boutique in New York. I’ll get you the details. I’d have to look it up. It’s a family-run place. Tucked in off one of the side streets in SoHo. Most people walk past without realizing it’s there.”
“Could you message me the name and address?”
“Of course.” She nods. “I have your number.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
I let a beat pass. I decide to test my theory, as crazy as it is.
“I’m curious about one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“This is a long shot.” I give her a small smile. “Why did you buy him a size nine when he’s an eight?”
Her hand flies up over her mouth.
“Oh, my gosh.” Her eyes go wide. “Please don’t tell me they look too big. I swore that no one would be able to tell.”
“Most people wouldn’t have. I’m just observant. It’s part of the job.”
“I’m so embarrassed.” She laughs into her palm.
“I bought him the wrong size. After almost fifteen years of marriage and two kids, you’d think I’d have it down by now, but no.
And I couldn’t even return them. We only fly to the Mainland once a year, if that.
So he just wears them and tells me they’re perfect.
” She drops her hand. “Don’t tell him you noticed, please. ”
“Your secret is safe with me.” I pause. “I won’t say a word.”
“Good.” She lets out a relieved-sounding breath. Then she glances at her watch, and the easy expression slips. “Oh shoot. Ridge, I’m so sorry. Are we close to done? I have to get my car to the panel shop before they close today, and traffic at this time of day is a nightmare.”
“Of course.” I straighten on the stool. “What happened to it?”
“I dinged it the other day. I parked it a little crooked the night before. Which is unlike me. I’m a bit of a stickler about parking it perfectly straight.
My OCD kicking in. I can’t actually remember doing it.
” She gives a small laugh. “I overslept. I was so groggy that I switched the alarm off without realizing. My kids were almost late for school on Thursday. My eldest almost missed his field trip. Anyway, I was rushing, so I reversed too fast and scraped the side along the garage frame on my way out. It’s a big, ugly mark down the back panel. ”
Last Thursday.
Right.
“That’s a pain. Mind if I take a quick look?”
“You want to look at the scrape?” She looks confused but stands. “Sure. Why not. The garage is through here.”
I follow her down a short corridor and through a door into a double garage. The black Mercedes is parked nose-out. As we walk around to the rear, I can see the damage. A scrape runs down behind the rear passenger side, the paint peeled back in a few places.
“Yes. That’s nasty.” I crouch to look at it. “At least it’s only one panel. It could have been worse.”
“I know.”
I memorize the registration plate while I’m down there. Then I straighten.
“I’ll get out of your way. You go and get it sorted.”
“I really hope they can turn it around quickly. I’m so lost without a car.”
“I know what you mean.”
We walk back through the house. At the front door, she turns to me with another quick smile.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
“You were great. I appreciate the time.”
“I hope you catch your guy.”
I nod, because there’s a chance she may want to take those words back before too long.
“Thanks, Avani.”
“Anytime.”
She waves and then closes the door.
I walk down the path and get into my SUV, pulling away.
My pulse hammers against the side of my neck.
I have been hunting a dark blue Lexus on the CCTV footage. I won’t find one because Patel didn’t take his own car. He took his wife’s Mercedes.
I need to rewatch the camera footage…again.
I think I might be onto something.