Page 29 of Edge of Steele
The mattress had succumbed to the same fate as the sofa, and the drawers had been yanked out of the nightstands, odds and ends salted across the faded beige carpet.
She pointed at the far wall with two doors. “I’ll check the closet. You do the bathroom.”
They separated, and she could barely get in the doorway with all the clothing scattered on the floor. Mostly heavy-duty work clothes but jeans and T-shirts too, and several pairs of work boots and sneakers, all with a built-in lift in the right shoe. A wooden organization system lined the closet walls, but stood empty. She squatted and dug through the items, carefully feeling clothing pockets for any hint of a lead. She came up empty.
Finn returned.
She stood. “Anything?”
“I found antidepressants in the medicine cabinet, but that’s it.”
“Interesting, but I don’t know how that helps. Unless he was suicidal and decided to take the company out with him.”
“He seemed well-adjusted to me, and I don’t think he formed any grudges against the company in the short time he was there.”
“Yeah, doesn’t make sense. But then do we really know the people we work with?”
“I did. At least my SEAL team, but this guy was pretty new and likely on his best behavior at work, so if he was feeling down, he was hiding it well.”
She nodded. “Let’s search the other bedroom.”
They went down the hallway, but the second bedroom was devoid of any furnishings. Still, she ran her fingers over the walls and floor of the closet looking for any hidden doors before giving in. “Nothing.”
“We still have his truck. If the deputies’ search turns it up.”
Trying not to let her disappointment ruin her mood, she headed down the stairs and gave the family room another quick search. “Nothing, but I still want to get Sierra Rice over here. She could locate fingerprints from whoever broke in and trashed the place, giving us a solid lead to pursue.”
“We should talk to the neighbors too,” he suggested. “Or at least I always found neighbors to be great sources of intel.”
She nodded. She’d thought he would be helpful, and he was proving his worth.
She pulled the door closed behind them and affixed the seal Russ had provided. “Wish I could lock it, but this will at least let us know if anyone tries to enter.”
They put their heads down against the wind until they reached the sidewalk and headed toward the dingy yellow place next door. The townhomes had immaculate landscaping, probably taken care of by the homeowners’ association. With the buildings blocking the wind, the late afternoon sun warmed her back as she approached the front door of the yellow house. Up close, she noted the color now faded to match the sky, looked like it had once been royal blue.
Ryleigh knocked and got out her shiny new badge in a small portfolio.
“What do you want?” A gruff female voice came from the other side of the door.
Ryleigh held up her credentials to the peephole, giving the woman a clear look at it.
She opened the door and stood, hand on a cane with five prongs and looking up at Ryleigh. Stooped over her cane, Ryleigh had a hard time telling her height, but her wrinkled face and frail posture made Ryleigh think nineties or older.
“I’m Bertha Samuels.” She clicked her teeth. “Suppose you want to know about the new neighbor too.”
“Mr. Gates, yes,” Ryleigh said.
“Knew he was trouble from the first time I laid eyes on him.”
“Is that so?” Ryleigh let her comment hang in the warm summer air, hoping that the woman would elaborate.
“He was moving in, and I came out to greet him with a plate of my famous peanut butter cookies. Now with my arthritis, it’s no small feat to bake these days, but the guy is one of those gluten-free people.” She rolled her eyes. “Rejected my cookies, and right off the bat he made sure I knew that he worked from two until ten and expected me to be quiet in the mornings when he slept late.”
“I’m sorry,” Ryleigh said as she didn’t know what else to say.
“I never.” Bertha shook her head. “Telling me to be quiet. I’m the most respectful neighbor he could hope to have. I knew he was from out of state by his southern drawl. I almost told him to go back to Alabama.”
“How did you know it was Alabama?”
