Chapter 53

Rapping sharply on the door, I waited for Adam"s response. Silence hugged the air, thick and unyielding. A second attempt, louder this time. Nothing. Hand steady, I reached out, grasping the doorknob. It turned with ease, a silent invitation into the unknown.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation!" My voice boomed through the open doorway, slicing the quiet. "I"m coming in!"

Stepping over the threshold, my senses sharpened. Eyes darting, gun held in a practiced grip by my side, I advanced, every nerve tingling with the possibility of what lay ahead.

The air felt cold in the house, the kind that seeps into your bones and settles there. I walked, my steps measured and heavy, toward the foot of the stairs where Nicki"s life had spilled out onto the polished wood. The stain was still there, a darker patch that whispered of the violence it had witnessed. My chest tightened, my heart sinking as I stopped at the edge of the scene.

I thought about the suitcase they had found by the stairs, packed with her belongings. It didn"t make sense. The pieces didn"t fit.

"You were leaving… not ending," I muttered to the silence, trying to piece together the shattered logic of it all. She"d been planning something, going somewhere.

"Why were you running, Nicki?" I asked the empty room, knowing no answer would come but asking nonetheless.

I started with the living room, eyes scanning for anything out of place. Dust settled on picture frames—memories frozen in time, smiles that hadn"t faded even as the people in them had.

"Focus," I whispered to myself.

The kitchen next. Dishes piled up in the sink. Upstairs, the hallway was silent, save for the soft creaking of floorboards beneath my feet. Bedroom doors ajar, begging me to delve into their secrets.

"Adam?" No answer came. I didn"t expect one.

Their bedroom felt hollow. I flicked on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness. My gaze swept from corner to corner, hungering for a clue, a sign, anything.

"Nothing? Really?" My frustration simmered. Then I saw it—the slightly open closet door beckoning. I approached with my heart drumming a steady beat of anticipation.

"All right, let"s see what you"re hiding."

Hangers clinked together, too many empty spaces where Adam"s clothes should have been. Shirts, jackets, pants—all gone. A neat freak like Adam leaving his wardrobe gutted? It churned my stomach. Unease crept in, and suspicion bloomed.

"Where"d you go, Adam? Running or chasing?"

I ran my fingers along the vacant rods, each empty hanger an accusation, a question left hanging in the air.

The vibration in my pocket jolted me from the emptiness of Adam"s closet. I fished out my phone, eyes still roving over the barren wardrobe.

"Agent Thomas speaking."

"Agent, it"s Monica—Victoria"s grandmother." Her voice trembled like a leaf in a storm, each word heavy with dread. "She"s… she"s gone."

My pulse skipped. Gone? I crossed to the window, peering out as if Victoria might magically appear on the lawn below.

"Monica, slow down for me. What do you mean "gone"?"

"Her bed—it"s empty," Monica gasped between shallow breaths. "I went to check on her, and she"s not there. Her wheelchair… it"s just sitting there like she vanished into thin air!"

"Okay, Monica. I"m here; I"m listening." My hand tightened around the phone. "Did you see or hear anything unusual tonight?"

"Nothing! We both took a nap. I just woke up and… and…." She trailed off, the sound of her panic replaced by the quiet sobbing of a woman unmoored by fear.

"Stay where you are," I instructed firmly. I was already moving toward the stairs, my mind shifting gears.

"Please," she whispered. "Her medication," Monica"s voice crackled through the phone, "she can"t miss a dose."

"Understood." The words were sharp, clipped with urgency. I paced, feeling the weight of every second slipping by.

"Find her," Monica pleaded.

"Doing everything I can," I assured her, though my gaze was locked outside, searching for a sign, any clue to latch onto.

That"s when I saw them through the windowpane, Adam and Sarah, their silhouettes huddled together in the house next door. Their proximity was too close, and their body language was too tense. Suspicion coiled within me like a spring.

"Monica," I said, keeping my voice level while my eyes tracked Sarah and Adam"s every move, "I need you to stay calm. Can you do that for me?"

"I"ll try," she breathed out, the quiver in her voice betraying her terror.

"Good." My hand hovered above my gun as I took in Sarah"s furtive glance and Adam"s hurried whisper. Something wasn"t right. I could feel it in my bones.

"Agent Thomas?" Monica"s anxious tone broke through my focus.

"Stay put, Monica. I"m on it." With those words, I ended the call, my resolve hardening like ice. It was time for a little visit next door.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket. My gaze flickered once more to the window, to the shadows moving within the neighboring house.

It was time to act. Quick, measured steps took me from the room, instincts honed from years in the field guiding my movements. Every sense was alert, every muscle primed for what was to come.

Adam and Sarah, I had questions, and they were going to give me answers, whether they liked it or not.

I pushed through Adam"s front door, a careful silence wrapping around me as it closed. Sarah"s house loomed next door, its windows dark, secrets tucked behind the curtains. I moved swiftly, feet barely whispering against the concrete.

My eyes swept left to right, once and twice. There were no signs of life or of Victoria.

"Watch yourself," I muttered under my breath.

Closer now, I spotted the wheelchair ramp winding up to Sarah"s front porch, an empty testament to accessibility and care. It was too still, too vacant. The hairs on my neck rose. Suspicion pulsed in my veins.

I was steps away from the door when a shape shifted inside. My hand found the gun at my hip, fingers brushing cold metal. Not yet—not until I have to.

"Sarah!" My voice was firm and controlled. "Adam! Open up."

Silence greeted me first, then the sound of a lock disengaging. The door cracked open, a sliver of light cutting through the growing darkness.

"Evening, Agent." Sarah"s voice was smooth, too smooth. "What brings you here?"

"Victoria"s missing," I said, watching her face for any flicker, any tell. "Have you seen her?"

"Missing?" She looked surprised. "What do you mean missing?"

"Mind if I come in?" I didn't wait for an answer, stepping past her into the dimly lit hallway. My senses were on high alert, every shadow a potential hiding place, every creak a whispered secret.

"Of course," Sarah replied, but her tone was tight. She knew I wasn't just there for pleasantries.

"Look, if you"re suggesting—" Sarah started, but I cut her off with a raised hand.

"Where"s Victoria, Sarah?" This time, my question was a blade, sharp and direct."And Adam? He was here a minute ago. I saw you two. Kissing. You're having an affair, the two of you?"

Her eyes flinched, guilt flickering like a shadow across her face.

"Agent, I swear, I don"t?—"

"Save it." I started moving again, each step purposeful, closing the distance between suspicion and truth. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Easy," she whispered, her resolve crumbling. "Please."

"Then, start talking." I leaned in, my presence filling the space, leaving no room for lies.