Page 59 of Blind Trust
“Kekoa, is she still here?” Nicolás glanced over his shoulder. “Okay, keep us posted.” He put his phone in his back pocket and knocked on the door. “He says the phone is still on and pinging to this location.”
Lyla walked back over to the front window, deciding it was worth the risk of scaring Genevieve. Cupping her eyes, she peered into the front room of the home. It was hard to tell, but— Lyla’s stomach clenched. “Nicolás, I think we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Either Genevieve is a slob or her house has been ransacked.”
Nicolás flipped his ball cap around and pressed his hands and face to the window. He moved around, trying to get a better look before he shook his head. “I can’t tell. I have a flashlight in my truck. You call the police and let them know we need them to do a welfare check.”
Lyla pulled out her phone and dialed 911 as Nicolás ran to his truck. She gave the emergency operator a brief explanation and the reason behind their concern. Nicolás ran back up. “They’re sending a patrol out, but it’s not a priority.” She rolled her eyes. “And they told me we’re not allowed to enter the house because this isn’t the movies.”
“Okay, I’m going to walk around the house. You stay up here and wait for the police.”
She sent him a look that told him exactly how she felt about his instruction. “How about we both walk the house, you in one direction and I’ll go the other way. It’ll be faster.”
He exhaled, and she could see the argument in his eyes. “If you see anything, call for me. Immediately.”
“Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Yes, sir.” She saluted, then wrinkled her nose at him, which earned her a half smile. She’d take it. “See you at the back.”
Twisting on her heel, she headed down the porch steps and started around the house, not wanting to give him another second to change his mind. There was a side window that looked intothe front room. Peeking in, she saw the same disarray. Cushions overthrown. Shelves emptied. Not the way she’d leave her place if she were going on a trip.
Lyla moved to the next window but had to climb through a rosebush to get to it. The blinds were open, revealing a bed and dresser.
Maybe Genevieve’s return hadn’t been planned. Maybe she came back for something and was rushing to pack what she could and leave again. Was that what Jerry’s wife and kids had done? Were they meeting up? But that didn’t explain why Jerry’s mom would be left out of the loop. If they were in some kind of danger, they would’ve taken her with them, right?
Unless she was like Mrs. Davenport...Lyla shoved that unkind thought from her mind and returned her focus to what was in front of her. Overturned drawers and clothes on the floor—just like her bedroom.
Goose bumps prickled her skin.
Genevieve’s home had been searched, and Lyla’s instinct told her it was for the same reason her own bedroom was—for the flash drive.
A rustling noise caused Lyla to jump and spin around. Thorns caught against her clothes, reaching her skin in painful scrapes. Behind her a squirrel eyed her for several seconds before scampering into the neighbor’s yard.
Stupid squirrels.
Lyla checked out the neighbor’s home. No more than twenty feet separated the houses. Maybe they knew Genevieve or had heard something, but another look at the window that mirrored the one Lyla was standing next to revealed the interior of the home was gutted. Cans of paint and lumber were stacked on the unfinished floor.
No help there.
Walking between the houses, Lyla checked Genevieve’s next window, but the blinds were closed. She rapped on the glass, just in case. “Genevieve?”
Nothing.
Ahead of her, Genevieve’s wooden fence separated her yard from the neighbor’s, but the ground was overturned and muddy where the fence protecting the neighboring home had been removed to give the backhoe parked there access to the yard.
Lyla froze when she heard a clattering noise nearby. What was that? Another squirrel? She jerked when a branch snapped, her gaze darting to movement in the trees edging the fence line between Genevieve’s yard and her neighbor’s property.
She took slow steps forward and readied herself to call for Nicolás in case it wasn’t a squirrel. Taking another step, she blew out a breath. Not a squirrel but a little boy, maybe nine or ten, watching her from a tree branch.
“Hello.” Lyla crossed the rest of the lawn, having to step around construction debris. She gestured to the house whose yard they were in. “Do you live here?”
He shook his head.
“Do you know the lady who lives next door?”
Another shake of the head.
“Are you supposed to be back here?”
