Page 157 of Bound By Fire
“Yep.” Flint nods. “She lives alone, according to the records. Rachael has no priors. Nothing. She’s the cleanest person I’ve ever pulled a file on.”
“Then how does she end up working for…whoever is orchestrating this?”
“That’s what we’re about to find out.” He nods toward the house.
It’s a small semi-detached with white paint that needs a touch-up. A planter with a wilted geranium sits on the front step. The curtains are drawn, even though the sun is up.
“After you,” Flint says.
We walk up the path, and I knock.
There’s nothing at first, so I knock again, harder. This time, there’s movement inside.
A second later, a voice comes through the door. “Who is it?” Her voice is a little shrill.
“Ma’am, we’re from Draig Security,” Flint says. “We need a few minutes of your time.”
There’s silence.
“Ma’am,” I say. “We won’t need long. Please.”
“I haven’t done anything. Please go away.”
“You are not in trouble,” Flint says. “Ma’am, open the door.”
There’s a long pause, and the door finally opens about four inches. Her face appears in the gap. The chain is still on.
Her eyes are red-rimmed and wide. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail at the base of her skull. It looks like Rachael hasn’t slept in days.
Behind her is the voice of a child making car noises.
“Vroom, vroom!” Followed by a crash. A toy clatters to the floor.
Flint and I look at each other because this isn’t what we were expecting. I’d pictured a lot of things on the drive over, but this certainly isn’t it.
We pull our credentials at the same time and hold them up.
“I’m Commander Ridge. This is Flint. We’re from Draig Security. We need to speak with you on a matter, ma’am. It’s important. You are quite safe.”
She looks at the IDs. Her hand on the doorframe is white at the knuckles. Her eyes still have that wide look, and her jaw is tight.
“It’s not a good time,” she says. “Please…please just go.” She moves to push the door shut. Flint puts his boot in the gap, and the door bounces back open.
“We need a few minutes,” he says. “That’s all.”
“Please leave.” Her voice cracks on the second word. “I don’t want any trouble. Please.” She glances over my shoulder, pastme, out at the street. Her eyes dart left, then right, then back to my face. She is petrified.
“A male’s life is at stake,” I tell her. “An innocent male has been falsely accused of something he didn’t do. We’re not leaving until we talk to you.”
“I’m begging you. Go! Please go! You’re going to get me into trouble.” Her voice has dropped low. She’s looking past us again. “Don’t park here. Don’t come here. Please. You have to go.” Her voice is shrill. Her eyes fill with tears, which she blinks away.
“Ma’am.” I keep my voice level. “You’re safe. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
Her eyes narrow, and her jaw tightens up some more.
“You can’t promise that,” she snaps. “Don’t say that to me! You have no idea what you are saying.” Her eyes fill.
“We can’t leave,” Flint tells her.
