She took a picture of it with her phone.
Pine copied the address from the check onto a piece of paper and left the way she had come.
She climbed back into the SUV and handed Blum the paper with the address.
“Plug this into the GPS.”
“What is it?”
“Hopefully, it’s where we’ll find Desiree Atkins, aka Dolores Venuti.”
“What was the shop like?”
“Creepy, just like I’m sure she is.”
“If she’s home, what are you going to do?”
“Stop myself from strangling her, and then start asking my questions.”
“And if she won’t answer?”
“Then maybe I won’t stop myself from strangling her.”
“You can’t mean that.”
Pine put the SUV in gear. “Don’t bet the farm on that, Carol.”
CHAPTER
29
OKAY, I DON’T LIKE THE LOOKS OF THIS,” said Blum as they pulled down a long gravel road with thick woods on either side. A patch of fog was rolling in, and the only light was from the SUV’s headlights.
“This is right out of the opening scene of every slasher movie I’ve ever watched.”
“Don’t let your emotions run away with you, Carol,” said Pine.
Blum glanced at her boss. “Aren’t you a little nervous?”
“I think Desiree should be more worried about me than I should be about her.”
“You believe she’ll be there?”
“We’re going to find out pretty soon.”
They rounded a bend. In the distance they could see the lights coming from a small split-level rancher built of brick and siding. It had a forlorn look, as though it were lonely without any other homes around. There was a metal carport next to the house with no car under it. The light they saw was coming from the front room.
“Great,” said Blum. “The little house in the dark woods. I wonder if Hansel and Gretel are inside about to be eaten.”
Pine pulled the SUV to a stop and killed the lights.
“Wait here.”
“I don’t want you going up there by yourself.”
“I’m armed and I’m a federal agent who is more than a little homicidal right now. Put simply, Desiree is a munchkin and I’m an Amazon. But slide over into the driver’s seat. Keep the doors locked and your phone in hand.”
Pine climbed out and made her way toward the house, keeping off the road and sidling along the tree line with careful strides. She then veered toward the front of the home and peered into one of the lighted windows. She saw furniture, pictures on the wall, a burgundy-and-blue rug on the floor, and not a person in sight. She edged around the corner and entered the backyard. She spied a small toolshed with gray siding and a shingled roof. She made her way over there and shone her light in one of the windows. It looked empty except for some tools, a wheelbarrow, and a stepladder. She tried the door, but it was locked.
She slipped over to the rear of the house and walked up a flight of wooden steps that led to a deck, built onto the back, which held some old patio furniture. The door there was locked as well. She used her light to see inside the rear door and check for an alarm panel.
Shit.
There was one, and she could see that it was armed. Why have one here and not one at her business?
She stepped back and looked around.
Okay, that might be a way.
Pine hustled to the toolshed and used her knife to force back the lock. She ducked inside and came back out a moment later with the ladder. The grade of the property dictated that the home had a high foundation in the rear covered by a brick veneer. She stepped back up on the raised deck, set the ladder next to the back door, and climbed the ladder to the spot that all the warning labels implored should never be touched by a human foot. She gripped the edge of the gutter and did a chin-up, praying that the gutter would hold her weight. It did, and she swung her legs up onto the roof. She gripped the edge of an asphalt shingle and used that to pull herself fully on top of the roof. She walked across it to the upper-level section of the house where two dormer windows presented her with possible entry points.
Most home alarm systems did not arm upper-level windows. She was about to find out if this place broke that norm. She inserted her knife between the sash to pry back the clasp. If the window was armed, this far out in the country she figured she’d have time to search the place, make and drink a cup of coffee, and get away long before the cops showed up.
Fortunately, no alarm went off. She slipped through the window and closed it behind her. She shone her light around the bedroom she found herself in. It was meticulously neat and furnished sparingly. She checked the closet and found that all the pieces of clothing would fit someone of Desiree’s age and petite stature. She inspected the bathroom situated in the hall next to the bedroom, then looked into the other bedroom on the other side of the bathroom. This space was empty except for two boxes stacked on top of each other. She looked through them, but they just contained some old clothes and other odds and ends.
It seemed clear that Desiree lived here alone.
Pine walked back into the bedroom. She had never seen a place so neat and organized. The bed was made up with decorative pillows arranged just so and military-level tight corners. She poked her head back in the closet. It looked to be one of those California Closets jobs, with two tiers of hanging rods, glass-fronted cabinets, deep drawers running on smooth slides, and open shelves for all the footwear. It held stacks of sweaters so neatly arranged they could qualify as store displays, and pants and shirts and dresses and skirts on hangers that seemed to be arranged by type and style. Scarves, shoes, underwear, and socks were all scrupulously sorted and organized. In the bathroom, toiletries and other items were in perfect order. The bathtub/shower was sparkling clean, the floors and countertops scrubbed and smelling of disinfectant. Towels were arranged in order of size and color in the linen closet.
She made her way downstairs to find that it was laid out simply but was, if it was possible, even more organized and clean than the upstairs. The wooden furniture in the main room was highly polished, the cushions plumped without a stain or smudge visible. The tracks in the rugs laid over oak hardwood floors showed they had been recently vacuumed. The knickknacks on the shelves were dusted, and the windows held not a streak of dirt.
She started searching the other rooms down here. Each one she got to was model-home organized. There was one door that was locked, but when she put her ear to the door she could hear the rumbling of the air handler. Probably just the furnace room.