Caleb kept trying Mara.
No answer.
Then the vehicle indicator stopped.
Her street.
“Damn.”
When they turned onto the block, Derek's SUV sat crooked at the curb.
Mara's front door was open.
Caleb and Tessa approached cautiously.
Caleb announced himself.
Voices came from a study.
Not screams.
Argument.
A man's frightened voice.
A woman's angry one.
They entered.
Derek Sloan stood near a desk with his hands visible.
Mara Ellison stood opposite him gripping a blue folder against her chest.
Both looked terrified.
Caleb kept his weapon low.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Derek immediately raised his.
“I don't want trouble.”
“You're standing inside a witness's house after participating in the removal of property from a detective's residence.”
“I know how it looks.”
“It looks bad.”
Mara spoke.
“He didn't hurt me.”
Caleb glanced at her.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Certain?”
“Yes.”
Derek swallowed.
“Travis sent me.”
“For what?”
“The folder.”
Mara tightened her grip.
“What folder?”
Derek nodded toward it.
“That one.”
Caleb looked at Mara.
She shook her head.
“This isn't the ledger.”
Derek looked confused.
“Travis said blue folder.”
“Why?”
“He said Mrs. Whitcomb needed association documents recovered from a former officer.”
Caleb stepped closer.
“Under what authority?”
Derek looked at the floor.
“That is the problem.”
“What problem?”
“There wasn't any.”
The room became quiet.
Derek lowered his hands only after Caleb told him he could.
Then he sat.
He looked twenty-four now.
Maybe younger.
The swagger from the driveway was gone.
“I joined Whitcomb Security eleven months ago,” he said. “Most jobs were boring. Gatehouse coverage, noise complaints, escorting contractors. Sometimes Travis would tell us we had a recovery.”
“What did that mean?” Tessa asked.
“Property belonging to the association because somebody hadn't paid.”
“Who explained that legal theory?”
“Travis.”
“Did you ever see a court order?”
Derek hesitated.
“No.”
“Warrant?”
“No.”
“Sheriff's authorization?”
“No.”
“Then what did you see?”
“The forms.”
“Like the one used at Caleb's house?”
“Yes.”
Derek rubbed both palms over his face.
“We were told lawyers prepared them.”
Caleb remained still.
“How many recoveries?”
“I don't know.”
“Estimate.”
“Maybe twenty-five since I started.”
Mara stared.
“Twenty-five?”
“Some were small. TVs. Tools. Jewelry. Some furniture. Once a motorcycle.”
“And where did everything go?” Tessa asked.