“Would you mind if we sat down?” Nikki asked. “I’d like to know more about this note.”
It was the perfect hook to get them away from the door. Once they all sat down, it became harder to get rid of them without being rude.
Evi Burke nibbled at the corner of her lip. She wanted her problem taken care of, and here were two people who might be able to help her.
“Ah, sure. Yes, of course,” she said, still reluctant. “Let’s go into the dining room.”
She turned to lead the way. Now she had invited them into her lovely, cozy home, and she would feel obligated to be a good hostess.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked. “I was about to make some for myself. I already put the water on. I just got my daughter down to sleep.”
“Tea would be lovely,” Seley said. “How old is your daughter?”
“Five.”
“That’s a great age.”
They shrugged off their coats and took seats at the small round oak dining room table. A woven basket of gourds and miniature pumpkins served as a centerpiece. A kindergarten Thanksgiving turkey craft project made from construction paper sat on an antique sideboard across the room.
“Would you like help?” Seley asked.
“No, no. I’ve got a tray,” Burke said, disappearing into the kitchen.
She was back within minutes, setting the tray on the table and pouring the hot water into a trio of pretty mugs.
“So, who’s after this client and why?” Nikki asked, selecting an Earl Grey tea bag.
“Chrysalis pulled her out of a sex trafficking situation with a very bad pimp by the name of Drago,” Burke said, taking her seat. She perched on the chair like a nervous little bird, ready to take flight at the first sign of danger. “He’s still on the loose. But she came out of a religious cult background with her family before that. She’s going to testify to some pretty horrific abuse by her own brother.”
“What does the note say?” Nikki asked. “Do you have it?”
“No, I gave it to Kate. It said, ‘I know who you are. I know where you live.’”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea what that’s supposed to mean?” Seley asked. “Aside from the obvious. Do you feel like you’re being watched?”
Burke made a little fluttering motion with her hands. “I assume that whoever sent it knows I’m affiliated with Hope’s case, and that they’ve somehow managed to get my address.”
“But there was no specific reference to the case?” Nikki asked. “No actual threat?”
“No.”
“Have there been any other notes, threats, calls? To you or to anyone at Chrysalis?”
“No.”
“Has the girl been threatened directly?”
“No, but she’s in a safe house.”
“So, why you?” Nikki asked.
She gave a little shrug, a little shake of the head, looking a little more worried than a moment ago. “I don’t know. I’m Hope’s social worker.”
“Exactly,” Nikki said. “You’re her social worker, you’re not her attorney, you’re not her legal guardian—if she has one. You’re not the figurehead of Chrysalis. Why would anyone come after you?”
“I don’t know. I just know I got the note.”
“Is there any other reason someone would be targeting you?” Seley asked. “Someone who might have a grudge against you?”
“No,” she said, looking genuinely baffled.
“I saw the feature on Chrysalis in the paper,” Seley said. “Could this be somehow related to that?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you get the note?” Nikki asked.
“It was in yesterday’s mail.”
Nikki sipped her tea and considered the timing as she jotted notes in her little spiral notebook. The newspaper article on the Chrysalis Center had come out a little over a week before. The announcement of the Cold Case investigation into the Duffy homicide had happened Tuesday. The note to Evi Burke had come in Wednesday’s mail.
“Evi, we’re actually from the Cold Case unit,” she said. “We’re investigating the Ted Duffy murder.”
Evi Burke sat up a little straighter. Her expression went carefully blank. She felt ambushed. She was thinking Nikki and her partner had weaseled their way into her home under false pretenses, and now she was trapped.
“I can’t be of much help with that, I’m afraid. I wasn’t there when it happened.”
“You were at a school function that night?”
“A basketball game. I didn’t get home until nine thirty or ten.”
“Were you with Jeremy Nilsen?” Nikki asked.
“No,” she said, looking confused. “Why would you think that?”
“Jeremy was supposedly at the game, too.”
“I saw him there. I wasn’t with him. He was a grade ahead of me.”
“Were you friends?”
“Not really. Just to say hi, you know: small talk at the bus stop.”
“But you remember seeing him at the basketball game?”
“Yes,” she said. “I remember because I had a crush on a guy he hung out with.”
Nikki paused in her scribbling and glanced up at her. “What was his name?”
“Oh my God, you’re kidding, right? It was twenty-five years ago. I can’t even remember what he looked like.”