CHAPTER 37

Maggie tried to wait patiently while Delores Heston of Heston Realty attempted to find the right key. The sun was sinking behind the ridge of trees. She couldn’t believe how much time they had wasted trying to track down Tess McGowan. And although Ms. Heston had been more than accommodating, Maggie felt agitated, on edge and overly anxious. She knew this was where Albert Stucky had killed Jessica Beckwith. She could feel it. She could sense it. It was so easy, so simple, so very much like Stucky.

Ms. Heston dug out another bundle of keys and Maggie fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Ms. Heston noticed.

“I don’t know where Tess is. I’m sure she probably just decided to take a couple of days off.”

It was the same explanation the woman had given Maggie over the phone, but again Maggie could hear the concern.

“One of these has to work.”

“I would think you’d have them labeled.” Maggie tried to contain her irritation. She knew Ms. Heston was doing them a favor by letting them take a look after their bogus explanation about investigating possible break-ins. Since when did the FBI get involved in local burglaries? Luckily, Ms. Heston didn’t question them.

“Actually, these are the spare keys. We do keep a labeled set, but Tess must have forgotten to return it after she showed the house yesterday.”

“Yesterday? She showed the house to someone yesterday?”

Ms. Heston stopped and gave Maggie a nervous glance over her shoulder. Maggie realized her voice must have sounded too shrill, too alarmed.

“Yes, I’m sure it was yesterday. I checked the show schedule before I left the office tonight—Wednesday, April 1. Is there a problem? Do you think the house may have been broken into before that?”

“I really can’t say,” Maggie said, trying to sound indifferent when she wanted to kick in the door. “Do you know who she showed the house to?”

“No, we keep the names off the schedule for confidentiality reasons.”

“You don’t have the name of the person written down anywhere?”

Ms. Heston shot her another concerned look over her shoulder. The woman’s flawless deep brown skin now had worry lines in her forehead and around her mouth. “Tess would have it written down somewhere. I trust my agents. No need for them to have me standing over their shoulder.” Concern was quickly turning to frustration.

Maggie hadn’t meant to make the woman defensive. She simply wanted the goddamn door opened.

She glanced around and saw Agent Tully finally emerge from the house across the street. He had been inside a long time, and Maggie wondered if the blonde in spandex who had answered the door simply found him charming, or if she really had some information to share. Judging by the woman’s smile and wave, Maggie guessed it to be the former. She watched the tall, lanky agent hurry across the street. Out here, he moved with a confident, long-legged gait. In his dark suit, sunglasses and closely cropped hair, he looked like standard government-issue FBI, except that Agent Tully was too polite, too friendly and much too accommodating. If he hadn’t told her he was from Cleveland, she would have guessed the Midwest. Maybe it was something in Ohio’s water.

“This house has a security system.” Ms. Heston was still trying to find the right key. “Oh, here we go. Finally.”

The lock clicked as Agent Tully bounded up the steps. Ms. Hes-ton turned, startled by his sudden appearance.

Ms. Heston, this is Special Agent R. J. Tully.

“Oh my. This must be important.”

“Just routine, ma’am. We tend to travel in pairs these days,” Tully said with a smile that relaxed the woman and immediately reminded Maggie of Sergeant Joe Friday.

She wanted to ask him if he had learned anything from the neighbor, but knew she’d have to wait for a more appropriate time. She hated waiting.

As soon as they entered the foyer, Maggie noticed the security system had been disarmed. None of the regular lights flashed or blinked.

“Are you certain the service has been continued?” Maggie asked as she pointed out the silent box. By now it should have been buzzing incessantly, screeching for the correct code to be entered.

“Yes, I’m quite certain. It’s in our contract with the owners.” Heston punched several buttons and the box came alive. “I don’t understand this. Surely Tess wouldn’t have forgotten to set it.”

Maggie remembered Tess McGowan being very careful about deactivating and reactivating the alarm systems of the houses she had shown Maggie, this one included. Security systems had been one of Maggie’s priorities, and she knew this one had not been anything out of the ordinary. She remembered it as being sufficient for the regular home owner. Most people didn’t need to barricade themselves in at night away from serial killers.

“Mind if we look around?” Agent Tully asked, but Maggie was already halfway up the open staircase. She reached the first landing when she heard Ms. Heston’s panicked voice.

“Oh, good Lord!”

Maggie leaned over the oak railing to see Ms. Heston pointing to a briefcase she had discovered in the corner of the living room.

“This belongs to Tess.” Up until now, the woman had been incredibly professional. Now her sudden panic was unnerving.

By the time Maggie came down the steps, Agent Tully had taken the briefcase and started carefully extracting its contents with a white handkerchief.

“No way that girl’s gonna leave this and not come back for it.” The panic rushed her words, reducing her previous crisp dialect to a slang version she obviously found more comfortable. “There’s her appointment book, her pocketbook…good Lord, something’s just not right here.”

Maggie watched as Agent Tully brought out the last item—a labeled set of keys. Without getting a closer look, Maggie knew they were the keys for this house. Suddenly she felt nauseated. Tess McGowan may have shown this house yesterday, but she certainly didn’t leave of her own free will.