Page 18 of Brazilian Surrender
Jaeger glanced at her, and if he had anything snarky to say, he kept it to himself.
She opened the door before he could do it for her and squared her shoulders, wanting to project the confidence she surely didn’t feel.
Fear released a sour sensation into her stomach. Striding alongside him almost made her believe she was safe. Sure, Jaeger was a large, muscly guy, but, hell, those two criminals had broken into his place. Why did the threats get worse each time? From letters, to animal murder, to having a gun to her head.
“Camila,” he said, cocking his head to the side, gesturing for her to go up the staircase leading to the second floor. The complex had dozens of red-bricked units.
They marched up in tandem, and soon he knocked on the door where Sean was supposed to live.
After three knocks, a woman with short, curly red hair opened the door. “What?” she asked, sizing them up.
“We’re here to talk to Sean,” Jaeger said and without delay entered the apartment. He acted swiftly, probably because if the red-haired lady shouted, Sean would be able to find a gun or escape. “Sean O’Brien?” Jaeger shouted, searching the place.
“Hey. He’s not here. And who are you anyway? Does he owe you money?” the woman asked, hands perched at her waist, following Jaeger around.
“He owes us an explanation. He broke into my friend’s place earlier today,” Camila said.
“Boo.” The woman just then looked at her, eyes rolling. “Why is that my problem?”
“This is his home address according to his driver’s license records,” Camila said.
Jaeger ignored the woman’s protests and checked the two rooms and bathroom. Camila searched for any clue that he could live here—but found no pictures of him on the several frames crowding the walls, and no manly items or shoes next to the ones at the entrance.
“He isn’t here,” she said. “We broke up ten months ago. He drops in every so often for child support.”
“Child support?” Camila repeated and just then noticed a playpen on the corner.
“Yeah. He’s the father of my three-year-old. He’s in daycare now.”
Jaeger returned to them, frowning. “He’s not here.”
“That’s what I just said,” the woman said, shaking her head.
Camila folded her arms. Of course, they didn’t expect Sean’s ex to help them. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“He dropped by a few nights ago and gave me the cash he’d been promising me for a while.”
“How much?” Jaeger asked.
“Listen, jackass, it wasn’t your money if he broke into your place today, and he visited me before,” she said.
“Do you know if he received money recently from someone called Lee Gibson?” Jaeger asked.
Camila let out a sigh. Really? Out of everyone she knew, Lee would never put her in danger. But, for some reason, Jaeger wasn’t convinced. She had to let him do his job and investigate, so she stayed silent and watched the woman’s face to see if her expression shifted.
“No,” she said with a blank stare.
Jaeger continued to ask her key questions. Why would she tell them anything? Even if she didn’t have the best relationship with Sean, he was still the father of her child, and if he got caught and ended up in jail, she’d no longer receive any financial help from him.
Maybe Jaeger realized it as well, for soon he was giving her his card, and she showed them out then slammed the door behind them.
“Do you think she’ll call us if he comes back?” Camila asked.
“Nope.” Jaeger’s gaze darted between her and the apartment across from the one they just left. “We know Sean received money recently, which cements my theory he was working for someone when he broke into my place with the other dude. Someone who’s obviously new at this; otherwise, they wouldn’t have paid him in the beginning.” He knocked on the door of the unit he’d been eyeing.
A man with shoulder-length hair in his twenties opened the door. His eyes seemed glossy and his pupils were dilated, like he’d just gotten high. “Yeah?”
“Do you know Sean O’Brien, the guy who used to live there and sometimes visits?”
