She reached high, getting on her toes, and pulled down a box. She barely moved out of the closet before she dropped to her knees, the box in front of her and she stared inside.
Colt walked to her and looked down to see a bunch of mismatched books in a jumble in the box. Her head tipped back and he could see the tears glittering at the bottoms of her eyes.
“I was in a hurry, needed to get somewhere, I just threw the one that fell up into the box, thinking I’d go back and sort it and I forgot,” she whispered. “I didn’t even look.”
He knew what she was saying. “How many are gone?”
She looked back into the box. “I keep them tidy. Don’t know why, but I keep them tidy.”
He crouched beside her and his hand went back to her neck.
“February, how many are gone?”
She shook her head, not looking at him.
“Feb.”
She finally looked at him.
“I don’t know, a lot.”
Colt looked away and hissed, “Fuck!”
He moved his hand to her upper arm and pulled her up as he straightened. Then he put his hand right back to her neck, keeping her close, his fingers pressing deep, indicating she was not to move away as he yanked out his phone and called Sully.
“’Lo. Colt?” Sully said in his ear, Colt had woke him.
“I need you to get a team to Feb’s place. Apartment number three, complex on Brown.”
“Shit,” Sully muttered, being a cop a long time the sleep was already gone from his voice on that word. “What?”
“Guy’s been here. Took her journals.”
Sully was quiet a moment then he said, “Well that explains that.”
“Call the Feds, get a team here.”
“Done.”
Colt flipped his phone shut and shoved it in his back pocket. Feb’s neck was trembling under his hand.
“Honey.”
She shook her head, kept shaking it, her body trembling but she held it loose, her hands dangling at her sides. She was lost, vulnerable, she’d been violated and she didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.
He pulled her closer and her hands automatically came to his stomach. “Feb.”
She tipped her head back. “He’s been in my house.”
“I know, baby.”
“He’s read my journals.”
“Keep it together for me.”
“He knows everything about me.”
“Feb, keep it together.”
She shook her head.
Then she closed her eyes tight and a tear slid out the corner of her left eye to trace wetness for an inch before it dropped off her cheekbone.
When she opened her eyes she said, “Wilson was here. Wilson’s friendly. He probably touched my cat.”
“Feb, you gotta keep it together.”
Her hands curled into his shirt and she sucked in breath.
“I wanna run, Colt,” she whispered, now her voice was trembling.
“I know you do.”
“I’m freaking scared.”
“I know, baby.”
“He was here,” she whispered and then fell forward, planting her face in his chest and her fearful shaking turned to tearful shaking and Colt slid his arms around her.
Day fucking five, five fucking crying jags.
He wanted to kill this fucking guy.
“We need to get you out of here. I’m gonna take you back home,” he told her.
She nodded, her face sliding against his chest and he wondered if she could breathe, she had it so tight against him.
He drew her away, led her out, secured the apartment and took her to his car.
They were almost home when she said, “I should have said something earlier. I feel like an idiot. I should have –”
“Don’t do that, Feb.”
She lapsed into silence.
Colt let her into his house and went right back out to the RV. He didn’t fuck around but pounded on the door.
Jack, shirtless and wearing jeans, hair wild, eyes wilder, threw it open.
“You got your gun?” Colt asked.
He watched Jack’s eyes slice to the house; he looked back at Colt, swallowed and nodded.
“Get it. Killer’s been in her house, not lately, weeks ago. Team’s headin’ there now. I wanna be there while they work. You need to be inside with Feb.”
Jack didn’t say a word, disappeared, came back wearing boots, a t-shirt and he had his snub-nosed revolver in his hand.
When they hit the living room, Feb was on the couch, sitting on his blanket, her heels in the seat, her cat curled in her arms, she was staring, eyes vacant, at the wall.
Colt wanted to move to Feb but he turned to Jack.
“Get some of Doc’s pills in her. Get her ass to bed. But you don’t sleep.”
Jack’s eyes were glued to his daughter but he nodded.
Colt looked at Feb again to see her eyes were on him.
Again he wanted to move to her but instead he walked out the door.
He heard it lock before he was three steps into the yard.
*
“Sully!” Chris called and Colt, standing on Feb’s front path with Sully, turned to see Chris in the doorway of Feb’s apartment.
Sully hadn’t fucked around and the boys weren’t either, not with this case, not with it being about Feb. It looked like Sully had activated the entire task force that had been pulled together from all the departments in the county to work this case. There were enough of them to make enough noise that lights had come on. They were on show, folks watching from windows, some of them wrapped tight in robes with slippers on their feet coming out to watch openly.
Word was going to get out, people would speculate, their control over information was slipping. It would evaporate when, come dawn, they canvassed.
Both Sully and Colt walked to Chris.
Chris’s eyes were on Sully, his face grim then he looked at Colt. “All right, Colt. We found somethin’ and you gotta keep your shit together, man.”
That cold that hadn’t left his chest started biting.
“You don’t… fuck, Sully,” Chris said, “should he even be here?”
“What’d you find?” Colt asked.
Chris didn’t answer.
“He’ll be all right,” Sully assured Chris.
Chris shot Colt a look and stepped out of the doorframe. Sully and Colt entered. The boys were about their business, six of them. They looked up and then looked away.