Page 23 of Little Child Gone

“I don’t remember seeing either of them,” Jeff said.

“I do,” Bonnie cut in. “We’d just gotten home from the cruise and heard about his passing. Jeff had gone to the store, but I was in the yard and saw a vehicle at Karl’s place. I decided to see if one of his children had stopped by. I wanted to pay my respects.” Bonnie’s eyes darkened. “His son was loading up the antiques in the house.”

“Those were family heirlooms, hon,” Jeff said. “I can’t blame him for taking them when they couldn’t watch the place constantly.”

“He was rude,” Bonnie argued. “I told him I was sorry for his loss, and he grunted. I thought at first he was holding back emotion, but he got a phone call. It took me a few seconds to figure out that he and his sister were arguing about the antiques. I left.”

Nikki hadn’t gotten that impression of Major Hendrickson from Matt’s attorney. Grief affected everyone differently. She’d reserve judgment until she spoke to him.

“What reports did you receive, exactly?” Bonnie asked.

“Unusual activity,” Nikki said. “If not much of value remained, it was probably kids looking to do something they weren’t supposed to be doing.”

Curiosity burned in Bonnie’s eyes. Nikki stood and thanked the Watsons for their time before Bonnie could ask any more questions. “Before I leave, could I get the home health aide’s contact information? My colleague’s elderly mother needs help, and it’s so hard to find someone you can trust.”

“Of course, let me run upstairs to my studio. My files and all of that are up there.”

“Thanks.” Nikki walked slowly to the door, wary of the two dogs sitting on the couch.

Bonnie followed closely behind. “What’s really going on over there?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why would the FBI be investigating alleged illegal activity at an empty house?” Bonnie asked. “Isn’t that the sheriff’s job?”

Nikki wasn’t about to tell her the truth, but Bonnie already knew Matt Kline had bought the place and hadn’t bothered him or mentioned it to the media. She leaned down closer to Bonnie. “Just between you and me?”

“Absolutely,” Bonnie said.

“Matt had heard about the reports and wanted it checked out,” Nikki said. “I’m kind of doing it as a favor to him. To ease his mind. He’s been through a lot.”

Bonnie’s hand went to her chest. “Bless his heart. Is there anything he needs? I’d be happy to bring food or help clean.”

“He’s wealthy.” Jeff had returned. “He can hire people.” He handed Nikki a crumpled business card. “She may have retired or be doing something else. But if she’s still taking care of elderly people, I’d highly recommend her.”

Nikki thanked the Watsons again and headed back to the Jeep, business card in her hand. She moved on to the next neighbor. Property records showed Jimmy Regan had purchased the twenty acres just north of Karl Hendrickson’s home a few years before Karl died, after the land had been rezoned to residential instead of farmland.

Regan’s double-wide mobile home sat close enough to the road he might have had a view of the Hendricksons’ comings and goings. Christmas decorations still decorated the white porch, a striking contrast to the dark-blue siding. The short driveway hadn’t been plowed since last night’s storm, Nikki’s Jeep creating fresh tracks as she parked next to a snow-covered Toyota Highlander.

She couldn’t say why, but something about the place’s isolation made Nikki take her gun out of the locked case and stow it into the holster. Regan had no criminal record, but Nikki had learned to trust the hairs on the back of her neck.

Snow and ice packed the porch steps. Nikki gripped the railing to keep from falling on her face. The porch didn’t appear to have been shoveled either. What was she about to find?

Nikki knocked on the door, her right hand resting on the hidden SIG Sauer. Several seconds passed in silence before she heard what sounded like a deadbolt unlocking from the inside.

A tall, dark-haired man wearing a headset opened the door a few inches. “Can I help you?”

Nikki held up her badge and introduced herself. “Are you Jimmy Regan?” The man nodded. “I’m helping Matt Kline with something, and I just had a few questions. Do you mind if I come in?”

Regan pulled the scraggly hair on his chin. “Who’s Matt Kline?”

“I’m sorry, he purchased the Hendrickson property.”

“That place has been empty since Karl died.”

“Right.” Nikki couldn’t get a read on Regan yet. “Matt wanted me to follow up on reports of someone being on the property not long before the closing.”

“I haven’t seen anything.” Regan still hadn’t opened the door more than three inches. “As you likely ascertained, I don’t get out much. Especially in winter.”

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