Chương 8
“Claire,” Ruiz called without taking her eyes off the man.
“Take Sophie farther back.”
I moved us toward Mr. Palmer’s driveway.
Sophie walked willingly this time.
That frightened me more than resistance would have.
She kept looking toward the shed.
“What was he doing in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“He had gasoline.”
“I know.”
“Was he going to burn it?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked up at me.
“You say that a lot today.”
“I’m trying to.”
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s harder than pretending I know everything.”
She considered that.
Then she leaned against my side.
I put one arm around her shoulders.
Across the street, Natalie had stood up from the curb.
Her face was streaked with mascara.
She was staring at the man from my shed.
“Eddie?”
The name carried across the yard.
Grant closed his eyes.
The stranger turned despite Patel’s command.
“Natalie?”
Ruiz’s attention moved instantly.
“You know him?”
Natalie nodded slowly.
“He works for Dad.”
Grant snapped, “Worked.”
The man laughed once.
“That’s convenient.”
“Quiet,” Patel said.
Grant stepped toward Ruiz.
“This has nothing to do with me.”
The stranger twisted his head around.
“You serious?”
“Sir,” Patel warned.
The man ignored him.
“You told me nobody was home.”
Every sound around us seemed to disappear again.
Grant’s face went white.
Natalie whispered, “Dad.”
Grant pointed at the man.
“He is lying.”
“Why would he be in my shed?”
I asked.
Grant looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
The man answered first.
“Because you wanted the paperwork gone.”
Patel tightened his grip on the man’s wrists.
“Stop talking for a second.”
“I’m trying to tell you—”
“And I’m trying to make sure this does not turn into ten people yelling at once.”
Ruiz holstered her weapon once Patel had the man secured.
She walked toward him.
“What’s your name?”
“Edward Pike.”
“Do you have identification?”
“Wallet, back right pocket.”
Patel retrieved it.
Ruiz looked at Grant.
“You know him?”
Grant’s voice had regained some of its polish.
“Mr. Pike did occasional maintenance work for one of my companies.”
Edward barked a laugh.
“Maintenance.”
Grant ignored him.
“How he ended up trespassing on my neighbor’s property is something you should ask him.”
Edward’s shoulders tightened.
“You gave me the gate code.”
I looked toward my backyard gate.
There was no electronic lock.
Then I understood.
The side vehicle gate behind the Caldwell property opened onto the drainage easement.
The route continued along the back of both lots.
Someone using that entrance could reach my shed without crossing the front of my property.
Grant shook his head.
“He’s confused.”
Edward turned.
“You texted me this morning.”
Ruiz looked at him.
“Do you still have the phone?”
He gave a humorless smile.
“Yeah.”
Grant’s jaw flexed.
Ruiz noticed.
So did I.
“Where is it?”
“Left front pocket.”
Patel removed a cheap Android phone.
Ruiz did not unlock it.
She placed it in an evidence bag.
Grant’s confidence faltered again.
“Those messages can be fabricated.”
Ruiz stared at him.
“We haven’t even looked at them.”
He realized his mistake.
Natalie stared at her father.
“You knew he was here.”
“No.”
“You just said the texts were fake before anyone said what they contained.”
“I said they could be.”
“That’s not what you said.”
Grant rubbed one hand across his mouth.
“Natalie, you’re emotional.”
She laughed bitterly.
“There it is again.”
Edward looked over his shoulder.
“He told me to clear the boxes from the shed and burn the trash.”
My stomach tightened.
“What boxes?”
He looked at me.
“Survey stuff.”
Ruiz stepped between us slightly.
“Mr. Pike, I need you to stop volunteering details until we separate everyone.”
“I’m already screwed.”
“That doesn’t mean you should make it worse.”
He exhaled through his nose.
“Fine.”
Sophie whispered, “Mom.”
I bent my head.
“What?”
“What’s in the shed?”
“Garden tools.”
“Only garden tools?”
I looked at the closed door.
“No.”
The answer came slowly.
There were three storage bins from our last move.
Old tax returns.
House closing documents.
Military paperwork I had not placed in secure storage because none of it was classified.
A locked metal case containing property records.
And a cardboard archive box I had inherited after my father died.
Grant had been interested in the shed almost from the week he moved in.
He had asked whether it leaked.
Whether I planned to tear it down.
Whether it sat entirely inside my surveyed lot.
I had mistaken nosiness for arrogance.
Maybe it had been both.
Ruiz walked toward me.
“Do you know what he might have been trying to remove?”
“Possibly property documents.”
“Anything valuable?”
“Not financially.”
“Anything that could relate to the boundary dispute?”
“Yes.”
Her expression sharpened.
“What?”
“My original closing packet and survey.”
Grant turned away.
That movement mattered more than if he had shouted.
Ruiz followed my gaze.
“So the original survey is stored in the shed?”
“I believe so.”
“You haven’t checked recently?”
“No.”
“When was the last time?”
“About two months ago.”
Grant laughed under his breath.
Everyone looked at him.
“What?”
He spread his hands.
“She admits she doesn’t even know what’s in there.”
Ruiz said nothing.
Neither did I.
People often keep talking when silence makes them nervous.
Grant did.
“This is turning into a circus based on speculation.”
Edward muttered, “You should’ve paid me first.”
Grant spun toward him.
“Shut your mouth.”
Ruiz stepped in.
“Mr. Caldwell.”
“I’m done listening to this.”
“You’re not free to leave yet.”
His face hardened.
“Am I being detained?”
“Yes.”
The word stopped him.
“For what?”
“While we determine what happened here.”
“On what legal basis?”
Ruiz’s voice stayed calm.
“An individual found inside your neighbor’s shed carrying a fuel container has identified you as the person who directed him there.”
“He’s lying.”
“That may be.”
“You have no evidence.”
“We have enough to investigate.”
Grant looked around as if he expected someone to rescue him from the indignity of procedure.
May you like
Nobody moved.
Mr. Palmer was still holding the spatula.
