Fair Is Foul and Foul Is Fair (The Malone Mystery Novels Book 2)

Chapter 12

Forty-five minutes after I had showered and dressed, Sara and I had arrived at her house in Brentwood. I pulled into the driveway, put the Camry transmission in park, and shut off the engine.

Looking over at Sara, I said, "Try to be on your best behavior. Remember, violence is never the answer."

Sara raised an eyebrow. Maybe only women could do that.

"I'm pretty sure you disqualified yourself as an advocate for non-violence a long time ago."

"Yes, perhaps," I said. "But, remember. Those who can do. Those who can't, teach."

"Oh, right," Sara said. "I think I remember hearing that once on an N.C.I.S. episode."

"Wait here for a bit while I check the perimeter of the house," I said.

"You think they even know where I live?"

"Probably not, not yet anyway," I said. "I'm sure losing Ray and Tony at least slowed Makara down a little. But I don't doubt for a minute that he couldn't find out where you live if he put his mind to it and decided to look."

I reached down and pulled the Detective Special from my ankle holster. I handed it to Sara.

"Is this really necessary?" she said, taking the pistol.

"Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it," I said. "It's not like the semi-automatic I bought for you. It's a revolver. All you have to do is point it and pull the trigger."

"Okay," Sara said. "Hurry, please. You're making me nervous."

"Back in a flash," I said, getting out of the car. I quickly circled the perimeter of the house. I didn't find any sign of forced entry around the windows and the back door was locked.

I walked back to the car and told Sara we could go inside. She gingerly handed the pistol back to me. I shoved it into my coat pocket. We walked to the front door, and I took out my key. I unlocked the lock on the doorknob first and then unlocked the deadbolt.

With Sara behind me, I opened the door halfway and called out, "Evania, it's me, Malone." I didn't want to chance surprising her and risk getting shot with Sara's pistol. There was no response. I called out several more times, but Evania neither responded nor did she appear in the hallway.

"This can't be good," I said, as much to myself as to Sara.

"Maybe she is sleeping," Sara said.

"Maybe," I said. "Come on, let's go in, but after I lock the front door, I need you to stay here until I check the house. I gave her your pistol for self-defense, and I don't want either of us getting accidentally shot."

"Okay."

I re-locked the front door. I checked the living room, dining room, and kitchen first. Nothing looked amiss, no signs of any struggle. I still had to check the bedrooms, but the sixth sense I had developed as a cop told me that the house felt empty.

I checked the guest bedroom first, then the other bedroom, and finally Sara's master. I checked both bathrooms. No sign of Evania. The bed in the guest bedroom had either already been made or hadn't been slept in. Evania was absolutely gone. What I didn't know is whether she had left of her own accord. But if Makara had already found Sara's house and snatched Evania, it seemed logical that there would have been some evidence of a struggle or at least some sign of forced entry. I was sure Evania wouldn't have opened the door to anyone.

There were two other things that bothered me. The closet doors in the guest bedroom had been standing open. Evania's suitcase and her clothes were gone. I'd also checked the bedside table in Sara's bedroom, and the semi-automatic was gone.