Page 27 of The Husband's Secret
Okay, she shook off the thought. He’d been through the main areas already. That left only the hall bath, the guest room and Janey’s. “Nothing here.” She drew in a deep steadying breath. “I was about to start in Janey’s room.”
He gave a nod. “I’ll take the bathroom and your office if you have no objections.”
“Sounds good.”
He disappeared from the door while she lingered in the middle of her room. How many times had she said the wordssounds goodthe past couple of days? When the truth was, none of this sounded good. Nothing that had happened in the past forty-eight hours was good.
Move on, Brenda. Steeling herself, she walked out of her room.
In the hall, Ben was busy checking behind the framed photographs she had hung so liberally along the walls. She liked passing the images of Janey from birth until now. Each morning as she walked from her bedroom to the kitchen she smiled at all those captured moments. She didn’t mind the extra dusting. She was glad he’d thought to look there as well.
She made her way to Janey’s room, and for a long moment she just stood there taking in the sight of her little girl’s space. Her dolls and toys were scattered after the search by the police, but seeing the disorder reminded her of a long afternoon with Janey enjoying her toys. Why give a child dolls and other things if you weren’t going to allow them to play with them? It was often messy, but it was the best kind of messiness. Scott never approved, but he didn’t have the final say.
Brenda got to work. The dolls were first. She checked each one, though there were not many good places to hide anything on or in a Barbie. Once all the dolls were put away, she fixed herattention on the little wood kitchen set and all the goodies that went with it. Nothing unexpected. Then she checked the slew of stuffed animals. No holes or tears or repaired places where something may have been inserted. Nothing on, inside or behind any of her daughter’s furniture.
A last look through the closet and she turned to leave the room, her heart aching at the idea that it could be days yet before she held her daughter in her arms again. She missed her so.
Her gaze snagged on the Barbie Dreamhouse. Had she checked it well enough? She had moved all the furniture, looked it over carefully before putting it back. The police had turned it over and looked beneath it.
Before her mind was even made up, she was already moving toward the big pink plastic house. She started with the slide, removing it from the house first. Piece by piece she removed each part behind or under which there could potentially be something hidden. The elevator on the opposite side from the slide was last.
Brenda eased from her knees to her bottom to sit on the hardwood. The elevator was partially loose, tilted just a bit. Came off easier than she’d expected. When she turned it over her breath caught. An address had been written on the back side where it connected to the house, rendering the words and numbers completely hidden before she pulled it free.
Bradley Street. She wasn’t familiar with the location, but she thought it might be in the Merrimack Mill Village. A quick check of the map on her cell phone gave her the exact locale. She had been right. The old Merrimack Mill Village was a local historic district. She had been to the area.
Moving with new purpose, Brenda snapped a pic and then quickly put the pieces of the house back together. Janey would be horrified if she came home and found it partially disassembled. Once all was as it should be, Brenda got to herfeet. Ben was no longer in the hall, her office or bathroom. She found him in the kitchen speaking quietly to someone on his phone.
She could barely restrain herself. They needed to go to this address. Maybe someone there could provide an answer or at least point them in the right direction. Telling the police was likely the right thing to do, but she absolutely refused to do so until she’d checked it out herself. Maybe it was wrong, but she wasn’t entirely satisfied with the way the authorities, local and federal, were handling things so far. No one except the Colby Agency had told her that Scott really had been at the Los Angeles airport. Why was that? Surely the FBI had found the same information. The only possible answer was that they were keeping information from her. As much as she disliked the idea of sounding paranoid, she was certain of it. The reason was fairly clear. To Shelton and Cummings, she was a suspect rather than a victim.
Whatever they were thinking, she couldn’t dwell on the uncertainty of it. She had to do something. Brenda gathered her handbag and tucked her phone inside. By the time Ben’s call ended she was ready to go. They would need to use his car since hers had been towed to the lab.
Hers had been damaged by a bomb…meant to cause her harm.
She shuddered and suddenly wondered what her neighbors were thinking. The police had been to her home repeatedly. Anyone who lived nearby had no doubt heard all manner of rumors about the explosion even if they hadn’t heard the actual explosion. Thankfully there had been no school today so only the teachers and staff had been on hand and suffered through the necessary evacuation. Numerous houses on either side of hers had been temporarily evacuated as well. All those people had waited at the end of the block until her entire property wassearched for additional threats. So horrifying and humiliating. Everyone around her now knew there was something strange and nefarious going on at the Devers home.
After Scott’s supposed death, so many had come by offering condolences and providing casseroles and soups. She cringed at the idea of what they would think when they learned the truth.
Hopefully she wouldn’t run into anyone who had questions. The reporters had been bad enough those first two weeks after the explosion at the firm. If they got a whiff of the change to Scott’s status and the escalating events at her home, they would be back. She desperately hoped that didn’t happen anytime soon.
“Did you find anything?”
His question startled her. Jeez. She had to stop getting lost in thought.
“Sorry again,” he said with an apologetic expression.
“It’s not you. It’s me.” She shook her head. “I keep… Anyway. I found something.” She showed him the picture she had snapped with her phone. “This was on the back side of the Barbie Dreamhouse elevator.”
“Bradley Street.” His gaze shifted to hers. “Do you know the place?”
“I’m familiar with the area but I don’t know anyone who lives there—at least I don’t think I do.”
She couldn’t be completely certain, since there were some people she knew whose home addresses were not something she had ever learned or needed to. Most people had acquaintances—particularly with all the social media—with whom they spoke from time to time but whose personal information they didn’t really know.
“We’ll see what we can find out.” He glanced toward the front of the house. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you have asurveillance detail. One man in a black sedan. Judging by the vehicle and the license plate I’d say it’s the Bureau.”
Brenda bit her lip. That could complicate things. “Is there a way to prevent him from following us or knowing that we’ve left?”
“We have to use my rental car so, yes, we should be able to do that.” He thought for a moment. “We’ll exit through the back door here and make our way via the alley to my garage. We can drive to the other end of the alley to make our getaway, and he won’t ever see us.”
