32. Calming Strong Voice

32

CALMING STRONG VOICE

" N ine-one-one, what's your emergency?" Van asked three weeks later at one minute past the start of his shift. It was the end of October and he'd told his employers that he was going to resign but would hold off until they filled his slot.

That was two weeks ago. He could be done by now, but as he'd told Kyle, he couldn't leave the island short-staffed.

At least they were interviewing for his position so that was better than nothing.

"Hi. I think someone is breaking into my neighbor's house?"

First call of the morning. Someone breaking in this early was crazy, but it wasn't light out yet either.

He knew because he had to do his morning runs in the house now on a treadmill.

He hated it, but it was better than nothing.

"Can you give me the address?" he asked.

"My address or my neighbor's?" the woman asked.

"Your neighbor's," he said. "Then yours."

He listened to the address being said and frowned. It sounded familiar to him, but he heard addresses all the time.

"My name is Liz Greenspan."

"Hi, Liz," he said. "Tell me what is going on and why you think someone is breaking into the neighbor's house."

"My neighbors are on vacation this week. They always tell me when they will be gone. But there is a cleaning van in the driveway."

"Are you sure they didn't hire a cleaning service while they were gone?" he asked. He figured this might be a false alarm. The woman was elderly, he could tell by the voice. She was probably confused.

"They never would," Liz said. "I know Thomas and Sarah. They don't have the money for a cleaning service. They both work hard and rent that house. They've been saving for this vacation for a year. It doesn't make sense."

He was typing into the computer. "I'm going to dispatch an officer to the location to check it out. Can you stay on the line with me while I do that?"

"Yes," Liz said.

He put her on hold and called Amore Island Police. They had no one available to get there for at least twenty minutes. His next call was to the State Police who had someone in the area who would respond and be there in less than ten.

"I'm back, Liz. State Police are on the way. ETA is less than ten minutes."

"ETA?" Liz asked.

"Estimated time of arrival," he said. "Can you see the house without being noticed?" he asked.

"I can go upstairs and look out my hallway window. I've got blinds."

"If you can do that without detection, let me know what you see, if anything."

"I see a light flashing in the house. If they were cleaning, wouldn't they turn the lights on? It's still kind of dark out. I've got my lights on."

She made a good point. "Flashing in one spot or moving around?"

"Moving around. Like a flashlight," Liz said.

"Keep holding, Liz. I'm going to update the State Police." He put her on hold and went back to the dispatch for State Police to talk to the officer en route. "Yes, this is Van Harlowe with nine-one-one. The neighbor reports a flashing light like a flashlight in the house."

"Sounds suspicious to me," he heard. "I'll keep the sirens off. I'm in an unmarked car. ETA is four minutes out."

Which meant the guy was moving faster. Unmarked car could be undercover or investigator. He didn't drive around in a police car but rather a less obvious black sedan when he was on the force. He would have loved to drive his truck, but you couldn't do too many high-speed chases that way if you needed to.

He went back to Liz. "Four minutes out. You'll see an unmarked car, but state police will be on the scene. Lights flashing but no sirens."

"I'll keep an eye out," Liz said. "I just feel bad for Sarah. She's such a clean and organized person. She takes pride in her home even though she doesn't own it. She's going to be devastated to return and find out this happened."

"We don't know anything else," he said.

"It looks like they are leaving," Liz said. "The van is backing up but no lights came on. I didn't even see them come back out."

"Can you see the license plate?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Just that it said Amore Island Cleaners. It's a white van, red lettering. I can't see anything else. It's heading west."

"Hang on," he said and switched back over to dispatch to relay the information. "Stay in the house, Liz. An officer will be on the scene soon and will check out the house and then will come over to talk to you after."

"Do you have the officer's name? I don't like opening the doors to strangers."

"He'll show his badge," he said. He didn't know who was responding without looking up ID numbers assigned.

"Then I can hang up now?" Liz asked.

"You can," he said.

"You have a nice day," Liz said. "You had a very calming strong voice."

"Thanks," he said quietly.

While he was waiting for another call, he did more research on the address of the home that was being burglarized. Or attempted, since he had no clue.

When he saw the owners, he realized why it sounded familiar.

It was one of the properties that his grandfather owned.

Shit.

He called out to Zac across the room to come closer.

"What's going on?" Zac asked.

"That call I just got. The attempted burglary. I need to leave and go check it out."

He hadn't told Zac why he was resigning. Not fully. Just that he'd had another job lined up but the start time was flexible.

He could just let this go and take care of it after hours, but he wanted to be on the scene with the State Police when they went through if he could. He'd have to contact the renters personally too.

"Why is that?" Zac asked.

He waited for a second. "I own that house."

"It was your house that was broken into?" Zac asked.

"Not the one I'm living in. Another one I own."

"And you didn't know it when the call came in?" Zac doubted him, he knew. It sounded odd.

"I didn't catch it," he said. "Listen, I was left property here on the island by my grandfather. That is why I moved. I'm living in one house, the others are rented. I need to check in. If you don't believe me, call my attorney at Bond Law to verify it's my property." He stood up. "Can you cover for me for a few hours?"

"Sure," Zac said. "You're coming back, right?"

"I'll be back," he said.

He drove to the location and, by the time he got there, a black sedan was in the driveway and a man was on the front porch.

He got out of his truck and said, "Van Harlowe. I was the nine-one-one operator. This is my house."

The guy came off the porch, his badge on his hip. "Jarrett Bond. So you're the one dating Kelsey. I recognized the name. Mac told me about you. Ex-detective, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." He should have figured the news would travel fast on the island. He'd heard it enough, but not many had come up to him about dating Kelsey.

No one at work at least.

He kept to himself, but Kelsey had told him her mother was telling people.

"I hadn't realized this was your place," Jarrett said.

"I hadn't either until the call was done. Did you find anything?"

"I just got here," Jarrett said. "I went looking for the van but didn't see it. There is no Amore Island Cleaners that I'm aware of. My guess is it was a wrap on the van to cover something. I drove around and didn't see any sign of it. I can have them keep an eye out at the docks, but that's not always easy either. We've got cameras there. We'll know if a white van tries to leave and can look into it."

"Better than nothing," he said. "Any sign of a break-in?"

"Yes," Jarrett said. "Messy too. They weren't waiting around to try to pick it but just broke it."

"Great," he said. "I'll get it fixed today for the renters. I should try to call them too. I'll have my property manager reach out."

"You're not going to be able to tell if anything was taken?" Jarrett asked.

"No," he said. "I won't. Let me call my property manager now. I guess the renters are on vacation. Great way to ruin it for them."

They opened the front door and walked in, flipping the lights. "Doesn't look like there is anything out of place here," Jarrett said.

They moved through the small house. Something about it looked familiar, but he could not place what it was. By the time they were done going through both floors it didn't appear as if anything was taken.

"The renters are going to call me," he said when he got a text. His phone rang next. "Hello, this is Van Harlowe."

"Hi. This is Thomas Lawson. I just heard that our house was broken into. How bad is it? Is there any damage? What was taken?"

"I'm in the house right now with the State Police. It doesn't appear that anything was disturbed, but the front lock was broken. I'll get it repaired today. Can you tell me if you think there is anything someone would want?"

Jarrett cleared his throat and put his hand out for the cell phone. He had to remember he wasn't a detective anymore.

He pulled it away from his ear and hit the speaker button.

"We don't have anything anyone would want," a woman's voice said. He assumed it was Sarah. "We live a simple life. We don't even have cash in the house. I guess we weren't meant to take this trip. We just got to the Poconos yesterday, but we'll come home today."

He wanted to tell them not to, but it wasn't his decision.

"This is Investigator Bond. It's your choice to return," Jarrett said. "The case will be open until you do and we can look through for anything missing."

"We'll be home," Thomas said. "We'd never be able to enjoy ourselves knowing what happened."

They talked a few more minutes and he hung up. "I feel like shit for them," Van said.

"Nothing you can do about it," Jarrett said.

"Not much more I can do here," he said. "Other than fix the lock for them. I'll get the stuff for it now."

He left after that and went to the hardware store and then returned. He told Thomas and Sarah to come to his office if they were on the island before three. Otherwise he'd meet them at their house when he was out of work.

When he got back to his office, Zac came over to him. "You're Kyle Raymond's business partner?"

It didn't take long for his name to be searched. "Yes," he said.

"Why are you working here?" Zac asked, frowning.

"It's complicated," he said and sat at his desk to get back to work. With any luck he wouldn't be here much longer and wouldn't need to worry about what people thought of him.