“I’m not sure it’s evidence at all, but I’d sure like to know if Grainger’s at home right now.”
“So what do you want to do about it? Call him, too?”
“Actually,” Theodosia said. “I’d like to drive over to his house and see for myself.”
“Do you even know where Grainger lives?”
Theodosia affected a casual shrug. “I have his address.”
“How on earth did you get that? Are you telling me that Haley willingly coughed it up for you?”
“Heck no,” Theodosia said. “I did what any clever investigator would do.”
“Which is?”
“I peeked at her cell phone when she wasn’t looking.”
? ? ?
Billy Grainger lived in North Charleston. On Fariday Street, which wasn’t all that far from the airport.
They drove around for a while, hit a couple of dead ends, and then finally found the address. They parked three houses down and tried to take stock of things. The neighborhood looked okay, maybe a little shabby, but some of the homes looked like they were being rehabbed. It was also intensely quiet, with no sign of evening joggers or dog walkers. Probably too late for that, Theodosia decided.
“I didn’t see any lights on inside Grainger’s house,” Drayton said. “Not even the telltale flicker of a TV.”
“So he’s either out for the evening or in bed for the night,” Theodosia said.
“Should we call him, too? Or is this a straight-ahead stakeout?”
Theodosia gazed at him. “You think this is funny, don’t you? You’re amused.”
The corners of Drayton’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. “I think this is all a little strange. This is not exactly how I’d planned to spend my evening.”
“Nobody back at the opera thought things would go sour, either,” Theodosia said.
“Is that what happened? Things went sour?”
Theodosia had to giggle, Drayton looked so serious. “No, Drayton, only your mood.”
He pretended to look outraged. “Wait a minute—I’m here, aren’t I? I’m . . . what would you call it? Riding shotgun for you.”
“Yes, you are. And for that I’m eternally grateful. Because some of what we’re doing tonight is a little scary.” She reached over and clasped his arm. “So thank you for indulging me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And I didn’t mean to be sour.”
“You really weren’t,” Theodosia said. “I think I’m just unsure about what to do next.”
“Theodosia,” Drayton said, “of all the people I know, you’re the most sure of themselves.”
“You think?”
Drayton bobbed his head emphatically. “Absolutely.”
? ? ?
They sat there for five minutes until Theodosia said, “I need to take a closer look.” She reached up, turned off the dome light, and popped open the driver’s-side door.
“If you’re going to go creepy-crawl that house,” Drayton said, “then I’m going with you.”
“Oh dear,” Theodosia whispered. “I think maybe I’m a bad influence.”
They crept up a cracked cement sidewalk toward Billy’s Craftsman-style home. Dim streetlamps overhead cast long shadows that ghosted along with them, a dog let loose a high-pitched yip from somewhere in a backyard.
“Creepy,” Drayton said.
“You mean Grainger’s house or our current situation?”
“Yes to all of the above,” Drayton said.
They were standing in front of Grainger’s bungalow now. The place had potential but an obviously unmotivated owner. A drainpipe hung askew, there were weeds in the dried-up flower beds, and the front porch sagged. They tiptoed up the front walk but were unwilling to go up onto the front porch, because that seemed a little too close for comfort. Instead, they snuck around the side of the house. Halfway down the length of it, they came to a low window.
“Let’s take a look,” Theodosia whispered.
Drayton cupped his hands together and peered inside. “I can’t see a thing,” he said.
“Shades drawn?”
“Hard to tell, it’s so dark.”
“You know what?” Theodosia said. “If a next-door neighbor looked out right now and saw us snooping, they’d probably call the police. Plus, we look strange. You’re in a tuxedo and I’m wearing a long skirt.”
“They’d just think we were high-class cat burglars,” Drayton said, which set them both to giggling. Then Drayton pumped his arms and did a jaunty little quickstep. “Look at me,” he said in a stage whisper, “I’m the gentleman bandit.”
“Stop it.” Theodosia batted him on the shoulder. “This is no laughing matter.”
Drayton sobered up. “Then we should leave.”
Theodosia held up a hand. “Not so fast. We’ve come this far, so we should definitely check out the garage. See if his motorcycle is parked there.”
They hunched their way quietly toward the garage, a single-car structure that looked like it was practically falling down.
“Is there a window?” Drayton asked.