Jo took a second to answer. “They don’t need to know that we talked.”

“Okay,” Sabrina said softly, still trusting her. “But what if that guy’s around?”

Jo thought it over for a minute, making sure the plan made sense. “When you get close to the station, have Holton meet you out front.”

“Okay.” Sabrina sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jo accompanied the woman to the detached garage, and Sabrina took her to her SUV. Rush-hour traffic was heavy, and Jo kept a close tail as they drove to the police station.

Sabrina parked the silver Lexus in a spot across from the station, and Jo pulled into a space down the street. Seconds later, Holton emerged from the station. Jo ducked down as he looked in her direction. Then he crossed the street, and Sabrina got out of the Lexus. He stayed close as they hurried into the building. Jo drove a few blocks away, then stopped and googled Trent Fontenot’s address.

On the way there, she plugged her phone in to charge it, then called Dack to update him.

“You’re okay?” he asked when she finished.

“Yes. But after talking to Sabrina, I have more questions than answers.”

“Do you think the people Sabrina talked to might be after you?”

Jo gave that some thought. “I didn’t see anyone, but it’s possible.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. No discernable surveillance. “If anyone’s after me, they’ll make their presence known, and I’ll take care of them. When I get some answers, I’ll call Holton.”

He exhaled. “Be careful.”

“Always.”

She ended the call and exited the highway, stopping at a fast-food joint for a quick bite to eat. Then she drove along Spring Avenue and a few minutes later turned down a side street and pulled up a few houses down from a small two-story house with a covered porch. It was after nine, and most people were at work.

She took the binoculars from under the seat and studied Trent’s house. Yellow crime-scene tape was secured across the front door, but otherwise there was no indication that a murder had occurred. She studied the front windows and saw no signs of forced entry. Jo couldn’t be sure, but she thought she spotted security cameras on the corner eaves of his house. If so, there were probably more cameras that she couldn’t see, and she wasn’t surprised when she noticed a doorbell camera as well.

After a few minutes of watching, she backed up, made a U-turn, then drove around the block and parked where she could study Trent’s house from a different angle. Everything looked normal. She didn’t spot more cameras, but she was sure they were there.

She would’ve loved to get into the house, but she wasn’t going to risk being recorded doing so. Some of Trent’s neighbors probably had security systems as well, and if the police looked at the video, they would certainly see her vehicle. Hopefully, they would never have reason to check. She studied the house for a moment longer, then lowered the binoculars.

Down the street, an older man with wispy gray hair emerged from the house next door to Trent. A dog pulled at his leash, and the man started down the sidewalk. Jo got out of the Escape and walked in his direction, thinking he might be a source of information. As she approached, he motioned for the dog—a big German Shepherd—to sit next to him. He said something to the dog, and it stared at Jo, ready to spring into action if need be. Jo pointed to Trent’s house.

“I worked with Trent a while back,” she lied. She scrunched up her face, trying to look sad. “You heard what happened to him?”

He nodded. “It’s a terrible thing.”

“You knew him?”

“We were neighborly.”

She had a feeling about him, like he was ex-military, so she asked him, “Where’d you serve?”

“Marines.” He eyed her. “I was in Nam.”

“Afghanistan,” she said.

“Marines?”

She shook her head. “Army, and then Civil Affairs.”

He studied her with a new appreciation. He asked her a few questions, could tell she knew the lingo. There was an instant comradery, which brought with it a level of trust.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Jo.”

He tapped his chest. “Fred.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, glancing over at Trent’s house. “I can’t believe he was murdered.” Fred was small but wiry, and he clearly still had his wits about him.

“He was working on a story I need to know about.”

“Are you a reporter now?”

“Yes,” Jo lied again.

He pursed his lips in and out. “I saw him on the news sometimes. He told me he used to work freelance, but that got hard. He said he took a lot of risks to find out the truth, but when you’re freelance, you don’t have a big agency to back you. If you get in any trouble, or if anyone thinks you’re lying, you could be sued.”

“That’s true.” She nodded knowingly. “I wonder what happened with the story he was working on. Did he tell you about that?”

“He did a lot of stuff with the crime beat, but I don’t know any particulars.”

“He told me some.” She dropped the other names Sabrina had mentioned.

“I don’t know the names,” he said as he petted the dog. “You ought to talk to his girlfriend. If anybody would know, it’d be her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Melanie Gorman.” He smiled. “She’s pretty, and nice. She’s always friendly with me. I told Trent he needed to marry that girl, and I don’t know why he didn’t.” His eyes grew wistful. “I was married for fifty years. Lost my wife last year to cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” Jo said with genuine remorse. “I lost my mother to cancer as well.”

She felt a pain pulling in her heart. It had been several years ago. Jo had been overseas throughout most of that time, which caused the pre-existing rift between her and her father to grow even larger. Some of those wounds had finally begun to heal when Jo had returned to Colorado. And then she’d had to leave again, and leave Will and Avery in danger.

She brushed those thoughts aside and focused on the man in front of her.

Fred nodded slowly. “Yeah, it’s rough. That’s why I told Trent to not let Melanie go.” His voice filled with sadness. “You never know how much time you have with someone.”

Jo cleared her throat and moved on. “Do you know where Melanie lives?”

“Not too far from here. She’s a nurse and works odd hours. I don’t know if she’d be home today or not.”

“Have you seen anything strange going on around here recently?”