I turned left at Santa Cruz and spotted Dana’s Xterra just past the stop sign. I pulled in behind her and she jumped out and ran to the passenger side of my Jeep.
“I think he’s in there,” she said, out of breath, pointing up the block and across the street.
It was an old bungalow, the exterior weathered by the proximity to the ocean. A dilapidated wooden deck fronted the house, decorated only with a red sofa that had seen better days. There was no yard to speak of, just clumps of bushes that had taken up residence. The shingled roof was in disrepair, with rotting corners and a sagging middle. Still, the place wasn’t much different than the others around it.
Character, I believe the residents called it.
“You think?”
She nodded. “This morning I heard some banging around in his apartment and it woke me up. I got up and looked out the window and I saw him getting into that car.” She pointed again and I saw the brown pickup in the driveway. “I waited until he pulled out of the lot and then I followed him.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yeah. But he was already out of the car when I pulled up. I didn’t want to get too close. But I’m guessing he’s inside.”
“Any idea whose house this is?”
“No.”
It occurred to me that Dana was really eager to play junior detective and I thought I knew why.
“Did you call Carter first?” I asked.
Her face reddened. “Yes. But he didn’t answer. Then I called you.”
Impressing Carter had become a priority for Dana.
“Stay here,” I said, getting out of the Jeep. “I’m going to go up to the house.”
“Wait-he had a bag with him,” she said.
Wellton told me the apartment had been cleared out. “Guns?”
“I couldn’t tell. But why else would he have been back at his apartment?”
I nodded and closed the door.
Walking up the sidewalk, I came to the front edge of the house and moved carefully along the porch. I stepped onto it gingerly, hoping to avoid creaks and rattles. Nothing emanated from the wood, so I continued up, moved next to the screen door, and listened.
Quiet.
I grabbed my gun from my waistband, held it at my side, and knocked on the door.
Nothing.
I tried the screen, but it was locked. Moving down off the porch, I retraced my footsteps to the fence and looked over it. An empty backyard.
I put my gun back in my waistband and hoisted myself over the fence. I fell to the ground and rolled close to the house and pulled my gun out again, creeping low next to the home until I came to the edge, and peered around the corner.
A small patio. An old hibachi barbecue sat on the ground. No tables or chairs.
I moved near the sliding glass door on the back wall of the house. Taking a deep breath, I crouched down, raised my gun, and pivoted so I was looking straight in through the door.
No Linc.
I rose up slowly and tried the slider. It started to move, but then caught. An old lock making it a little loosey-goosey.
I was starting to doubt Dana. Maybe she’d smoked a little too much pot the night before.
I rattled the door some more, seeing if I could shake it loose.
A figure darted out from the hallway on the other side of the door and sprinted for the front of the house.
I spun and ran back the way I’d come, throwing myself over the fence. I came around the corner of the house to see a young man sprinting parallel to the property in the opposite direction, glancing back at me.
Which explained why he never saw Dana step out from the side of the house and clothesline him with a straight right arm.
The guy fell to the ground in a heap.
Dana looked down at him, then at me. “This is Linc.”
Thirty-seven
Dana had stunned him and he was a little woozy, so I picked him up off the ground.
“I got bored waiting in the car,” she said.
I was annoyed that she had ignored my directions, but it wasn’t the time to argue. “We’ll discuss it later.”
I set Linc on the couch. I sat down in a ripped leather chair across from him and Dana stood next to me.
Linc looked a lot like the photo Peter had given me and, in person, a lot like his older brother-same dark hair and intense eyes-just a little rougher around the edges. Dirty jeans and a black T-shirt hung listlessly on his body.
His eyes cleared and he looked like he had shaken off the blow.
I was so angry with this kid I didn’t know where to start.
I glanced at Dana. “You heard him in his apartment this morning?”
She nodded, staring at him. “The walls are thin. The noise woke me up.”
“I dropped something,” Linc said.
I turned to him. “You can feel free to shut the fuck up until I tell you to talk.”
He didn’t flinch, just returned my stare as his mouth closed into a tight line.
“Who the hell are you?” Linc asked, moving to the edge of the couch.
My right fist clenched and if I’d been closer, I would’ve punched him.
“I’m the guy that was hired to find your sorry ass,” I said. “Both your aunt and your brother asked me to figure out where the hell you’ve been because for some unbelievable reason, they seemed to give a rat’s ass about you. And if you speak again before I ask you a question, I’m going to choke the shit out of you.”
“He’s an investigator,” Dana said.
Linc finally wavered and he slid back into the sofa.
I took a deep breath, summoned up a little composure, and looked at him again. “Let’s start with Rachel. What do you know about her?”
He looked at me for a moment, maybe wondering if I was setting him up to say something so I could jump down his throat again.
He chewed on his lip for a moment. “I know she was shot.”
“Any idea who did it?”
He hesitated. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”
I felt my blood pressure spike. Wouldn’t look good to murder the kid I was hired to find. I tried a different approach to see if I could get a straight answer.
“What do you know about your brother?” I asked.
His expression soured and it was clear he was in the dark. “Peter? What about him?”
“He’s dead.”
His features drooped and the sour expression morphed into confusion, the first sign that the tough facade had a real weakness. “What are you talking about?”
Part of me felt bad for dropping the news on him. But the other half of me recognized that he was indirectly responsible for Peter’s death.
“He hired me to find you,” I said. “He was found in a canyon the next day.” I paused. “Killed by a couple of other guys looking for you.”
He looked away from me, his eyes focused on the floor. His shoulders bunched, the weight of what I’d said taking him out of our conversation for a moment.
Then he lifted his head up.
“You and I need to talk,” he said, then nodded at Dana. “Without her.”
“Oh, fuck you, Linc,” Dana said, irritated.
He didn’t look at her, just at me.
There was something in his eyes that I hadn’t expected to see. It was the same desperation I had seen in Peter’s face the day he hired me to find Linc.
“Dana, please. Go wait outside,” I said.
“Fuck you, too,” she said. “I helped you find him.”
“Dana, this isn’t the time. You’ve been a huge help, but right now I need you to give us a few minutes, alright?”
She gave an exasperated sigh and threw up her hands like a great stage actress. “Fine. You don’t need me? Then I’m outta here. I’ll go someplace I’m wanted. You two dickheads have a great time.” She spun on her heel and walked out the front door, slamming it behind her.