Page 93 of Wild Embers
My brows lift. “Ah. Yeah. That’s a different conversation.”
“One that needs to happen.”
“We’ll make it happen,” I assure him, then return to my search.
“I told her.”
I ask for clarification as I open another drawer. “About what?”
“Us.”
Levi's answer pulls me up short. I pause and look up at him, needing to see his expression as much as I need to hear his words. “How’d she take it?”
He nods his head and gives me a half smile. “I think we’re good to keep going.”
“Then we’ll keep going.” I agree with him.
Levi nods, satisfied with my response, then returns to the kitchen to finish the search. I follow his lead and do the same.
In the last drawer, a small black leather planner is stashed beneath a stack of envelopes and stamps. I lay it out on the desktop and flip through the pages.
I raise my voice a fraction to get Levi’s attention. “The reverend’s calendar is color-coded. Green for medical, blue for church duties, yellow for social or recreation.”
“At least he’s organized,” he shouts back.
“Come here,” I call to him. When Levi reenters, I scoot the chair to the side, making room for him, and point to myobservation. “He has three hours blocked off in his calendar every Saturday.”
Levi flips from week to week, discovering the same thing I did. “Does it say anywhere what he’s doing?”
“No. It’s just marked in red.” I shrug.
“Anything else in there marked red?” He questions.
“No,” I respond.
Levi slides the book closer to me. “What do you think he was doing?”
“I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it might be what made him a target.” I suggest.
“You think his weekly appointment is what connects him and Derek?” Levi asks for clarification.
Shifting my posture, I remark, “I think we’re looking at a killer who doesn’t care who you are. I think he judges your actions.”
Levi pulls out his phone, shooting off a text. “I’ll let Walk know we need to pull phone and financial records.”
“That’ll go over well with a judge.” Changing my voice, I imitate a young naïve officer. “Sir, we need a warrant to search bank accounts for a local church that you probably attend.”
Levi sticks with his optimism. “Walk probably knows a judge who would sign.”
“Not a single judge would sign the last warrant he drafted,” I argue, resting my chin in my hand.
Levi gives me a sidelong glance. “That warrant was for Emmett to identify his source. Warrants like that usually don’t get signed. Freedom of speech and all that.”
Done with the debate, I bury my nose back in the planner, scouring for a key or something that will help me understand what the red means. Levi stocks off, probably going to search another part of the house.
“Do you smell that?” Levi shouts to me from another room.
Sticking my nose in the air like a dog, I sniff. “Is that a gas leak?”
