Page 46 of Wild Sentinel

With the trees and shrubs, there were plenty of places to hide at night. It would have been easy for someone to step out of the shadows and shoot the talent agent as she pulled into the driveway, waiting for her gate to open.

Jack kept driving and parked at the curb a few houses down.

This neighborhood was a stark contrast to the apartment building where Lucas Reed lived.

Jack killed the engine, and we hopped out of the car. We strolled the short walkway to the gate, and I rang the buzzer. Two casual guys in a neighborhood like this didn't look out of place. Especially driving a red Ferrari.

A voice crackled through the speaker a moment later. "Can I help you?"

I presented my badge to the lens and said, "County sheriff. We have a few questions about the burglary.”

The line disconnected, and the gate buzzed open. We pushed inside and continued up the walkway to the front porch.

The home was similar to Vivian's, but had more of a Spanish influence with orange tile. A small villa. Maybe not so small.

It was late afternoon, but most of the people in this neighborhood didn't have regular jobs. Nobody in LA seemed to keep real hours. Restaurants were packed no matter what time of day. I figured they couldn't all have TV shows.

Jeff greeted us at the door. He was in his late 30s with wavy brown hair that hung just over his ears. “Thanks for stopping by. Have you found something?”

I shook my head.

Jeff frowned.

"Can you tell me what was stolen?" I asked.

"I already gave the West Beverly PD that information."

"We're running a parallel investigation. Any information you can share would be helpful."

"Sure. It's not like they've done much.” Jeff took a deep breath as he thought. “Well, the thief took some of my wife's jewelry, some cash, a camera, and a gun." He said the last part without thinking, and concern instantly filled his face.

I picked up on it. "All of this was reported?"

Jeff's mouth tightened. "Everything except the gun.”

"Why is that?”

He hesitated for a second. "I should probably keep my mouth shut. I don't want to get in trouble.”

"I'm just interested in tracking down the person who murdered Vivian Steele. I think there might be a connection to the burglary."

His brow knitted. "You think it was the same person?”

I shrugged. "Could have been. If it makes you feel better, we’re from out of state. I'm not looking to bust you because you were in possession of an illegal firearm," I said, taking a guess at the reason behind his hesitancy.

Jeff breathed easier. "Well, it was my dad's gun. I didn't want to let it go. It had sentimental value." Jeff inhaled. "Let's just say I made a few bad choices in my youth that left me with a permanent record."

I figured he was a convicted felon. "Seems like you turned your life around.”

He nodded. "Absolutely. Anyway, I didn’t report the gun stolen at the time. I figured with the way West Beverly is, they'd at least try to fine me.” Panic filled his eyes as he connected the dots. “You don’t think my gun was used to kill Vivian, do you?”

I shrugged. "Do you have the serial number of the weapon?”

"No. It was an old gun. I don't know if it even had a serial. It was passed down to my dad from his father. He got it during the war off a German soldier he killed.”

“What type of pistol?”

“A Luger P08.”