***
Thirty minutes later, Jo drove into the neighborhood. It was dark now, and quiet, with some vehicles in driveways or parked on the street, but nothing moving. Jo pulled to the curb down the block and studied Sabrina’s house. It was a quaint red-brick single story, set back from the road, with a covered porch and bushes lining the front of the house. The driveway was empty, no lights on in the house.
Jo wondered if Sabrina was still with the police. If they suspected her of being an inside person to the robbery, they could be holding her. However, Jo didn’t get the feeling that Holden believed her about the woman. Jo looked up and down the block but didn’t see any signs of surveillance personnel. After waiting a few more minutes, she got out, walked down the street, and cautiously headed up the walk to Sabrina’s door. She rang the bell and waited. It was now seven o’clock. Too early for her to be in bed, unless she’d come home exhausted and gone straight to sleep. Jo knocked, but still no answer.
The street remained empty, so she stepped off the porch and walked around the side of the house toward the back. There was a chain-link fence and a gate to the back yard. She saw no signs of people or dogs, so she let herself through.
The yard was spacious, with a detached garage at the end of the drive and a wood picnic table and benches sitting just off a small porch. Jo slipped along the back of the house and peeked through a window into a kitchen, dimly lit by a digital clock on a stove. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and she didn’t see any signs of Sabrina or anyone else. Jo quietly made her way around the other side of the house, hopping the chain-link fence and heading to the front. She hurried to the sidewalk just as a couple emerged from the house next door. They walked out toward the sidewalk, and Jo waved at them.
“Hey there.” She gestured over her shoulder. “Have you seen Sabrina?”
“I haven’t,” the woman said. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, with long blond hair. Both wore wedding rings. She looked toward Sabrina’s house. “She ought to be home from work by now, unless she went out.”
“I was supposed to meet her,” Jo said.
“It’s Monday night, and she usually watches The Voice.”
“How do you know that?” her husband asked.
The woman laughed. “Sabrina and I talk.”
The man shrugged. “Yes, the two of you certainly do.”
“Maybe she got delayed. Sorry,” the woman said, giving Jo a sympathetic look.
“No problem,” Jo said.
The couple headed down the block, and Jo let some distance grow between them before she followed. Once they’d disappeared around the corner, Jo dashed to her car, then drove around the block and parked in a different place, from which she could still see Sabrina’s house. The evening was pleasant but cool, and she felt comfortable sitting in the car for a while.
Half an hour later, the couple returned from their walk and went back inside their house. Neither appeared to notice Jo. Thirty more minutes after that, a silver Lexus drove down the street. It turned into Sabrina’s driveway and pulled into the garage. Jo got out of the SUV and jogged down the street, and as she approached the house, light spilled from the living room. She hurried to the door and rang the bell. A moment later, a porch light went on and the door opened. Sabrina peered at her.
“Yes?”
Jo studied her through the screen door. She appeared stressed, her eyes narrowed, wrinkles flaring from the corners. Her lips were pursed, and there was a visible tension to her whole body.
“Sabrina?” Jo began.
Sabrina cracked open the screen door and peered at her. “What do you want? Do I—” Just as it had taken Rico a moment to recognize Jo, it was the same with Sabrina. Her jaw dropped, and she began to tremble. “What’re you doing here?” She looked into the street. “How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t that hard,” Jo replied.
Sabrina shook her head. “How do you know my last name?”
She dodged that one. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” Sabrina snapped. “I’m just . . . tired, and I want to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“Did the police interview you?”
“Of course they did. They talked to everybody.”
Jo gestured toward the hallway behind her. “Could we talk for a minute?”
Sabrina shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. I already spoke with the police.”
She hazarded a guess—time to see what the woman would do. “You know more about the robbers.”
“What? That’s not true.”
Jo heard it in the tone. Surprise comingled with fear. It was a curious response. Then Sabrina tried for some indignation on top of it.
“I don’t know what you’re implying.”
“Let’s talk,” Jo said.
Sabrina shook her head. “I don’t have anything to say to you. You need to leave.”
With that, she pulled the screen door shut. A second later, the wood door closed with a bang. Jo tapped lightly on the screen and called out for her, but she received no response. Jo didn’t want to make a scene, so she hurried back down the sidewalk. As she walked to her car, she knew one thing.
There was a reason why Sabrina didn’t want to talk to her, and Jo was going to find out what it was.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Kline walked into the office, the other man was on the phone, running a hand along the surface of a long desk, its surface polished to a gleaming shine. Kline sat down on a leather couch and waited, mulling over his day.
Everything was still going according to plan. After his meeting in the parking garage, he’d switched vehicles. The other one would be sold, and even if the police had reason to trace it, the car wouldn’t lead back to him. The latest burner phone he’d been using to contact the bank robber had been destroyed as well, and Kline had a replacement. He’d been monitoring the robbery investigation closely. He had contacts in various police departments, and he knew plenty of personnel at other government agencies, too. No one had discovered the identities of the robbers, and they didn’t have any idea where the three men had gone.
And of course, no one knew about Kline, either.
