Page 110 of The Fallen Man
The line went dead, and Jackson dropped the phone into his pocket. Slowly, he surveyed the room. Despite the mess, not much had actually been disturbed. Houge hadn’t done much searching. Most of the furniture was in its usual place. Katie—Caitlin—kept the place tidy. She didn’t like a mess. She said itmade her anxious. So where would she put a bunch of papers from her father? A tiny desk was next to the computer with orderly rows of envelopes. He knew Katie didn’t like the desk—he got the feeling that she managed the finances from there—but nothing looked like Granger’s mysterious paper files. He went for a moment to stare into the bedroom and found himself closing his eyes against the physical sensation of pain.
This place had been a haven. Someplace sweet and safe that made him happy. A sanctuary that had been violated. He didn’t think Katie would stash anything from her father in the bedroom, and he did an about-face and inhaled sharply through his nose, trying to clear his head.
Katie didn’t keep secrets. Not really. She just wanted to handle everything herself. Because there was no one else. But he’d been able to see how worn down she got from dealing with it. She was good at tucking things out of sight, and maybe when she’d been with him, she’d been able to hide from it herself, but it had been crushing her.
She tucked things out of sight.
Jackson moved toward the couch, stepping gingerly around the body and blood spatters. He had one hand on the ottoman when he heard the soft clunk of the remains of the door hitting the wall.
“Katie?”
Jackson recognized Vince Romano’s voice.
“Up here,” Jackson called. He didn’t wait and flipped the lid off the ottoman. Inside was a mess of papers. Bills and letters from the IRS were layered on top, but underneath he could see the corner of a yellow mailing envelope.
Vince came up the stairs with his gun drawn. He took in the scene at Jackson. “Where the fuck is Katie?” he asked, not putting his pistol away or taking it off Jackson.
“Hospital,” said Jackson. “I’ve got a guy with her. What are youdoing here?”
Vince dropped the gun and looked around again. “She picked up an extra shift tonight and then didn’t show. She never does that. Then she didn’t answer her phone. I thought I’d swing by.”
“Good idea,” said Jackson. He bent down and extracted the envelope with his gloved hand. The postmark was from San Francisco.
“Who did this?” demanded Vince, pointing at the body.
“Pretty sure that was Katie.”
“Fuck. We need to call the cops.”
“Not yet,” said Jackson.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
“Well, once the cops get here, they’ll seal the scene, which means all of Katie’s clothes will be stuck here. I want to pack her a bag.”
“Pack a bag? Who gives a shit about a bag? We need to figure out what the hell happened and get the cops up here.”
“I know what happened. Her father’s partner in the senate sent that asshole after her, looking for these papers. But after I beat the shit out of him last week, they came back when I wasn’t around.”
“You’re taking this pretty damn calmly,” growled Vince. Jackson finally looked him in the eye.
Jackson was aware that he was going full Deveraux, but he couldn’t stop the sheer rage that was churning in his gut.
“It’s Wednesday, Vince,” he said quietly. “She never works Wednesday nights because she’ssupposedto be with me.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know you were actually into her?”
“You could have tried asking either of us,” snapped Jackson.
“She has been in hell because of you and her dad. Since when do the Deverauxes ever give a shit about anyone? Everyone knows you’re all assholes.”
“That is true,” said Jackson, taking out his phone again. “We really are.”
I have the papers. I’ll bring them to the office. Find me Houge.
Jackson went into her room, brushing by Vince. Her work clothes were still on a hanger on the bedroom doorknob. He left most of the clothes, just taking what he thought were her favorite items. He would get her more clothes if they were needed. Then he packed a toothbrush and all the random necessities of phone chargers, hair brush, and bras and dumped everything into a gym bag he found in the closet.
“You’re not going to call the cops, are you?” asked Vince when he came out again.
