Page 155 of Head Room
Mike drove us to a row of small buildings behind the Do Sleep motel.They were worse than the motel, which is an impressive achievement in a depressing way.
“It’s that one,” Diana said.
The structures looked like rejects from the Old West Town the museum inherited.Clara Atwood wouldn’t give them a second look.Also, none of them would survive being transported to the site.
The one connected to Jay Haus didn’t look like it would survive another day.
When going to the office of a lawyer with a less than stellar reputation and ties to slimeball companies to ask questions to potentially confirm he shot someone in the head, it’s wise to have a plan.
Mike knocked on the door, firm, but unremarkable.
So much for planning.
The door squeaked open several inches, then stopped.
“Haus?Jay Haus,” Mike called out.
No answer.
He looked over his shoulder at us.I nodded.But we all stepped farther to the side as he pushed the door wider.
No one stood on the other side of it.
The front room held a desk, a chair, the connections for a computer and other electronics, and a mess of papers, folders, and junk food wrappers that would send my mother into apoplexy.
Through an open doorway at the back of this room, we could see a bedroom and bathroom.Both in similar disarray, though their detritus matched their purposes — clothing in heaps, bedding pulled askew in the bedroom, toiletries and towels in the bathroom.
“He’s gone,” Mike said.
We did not go in.We did not disturb anything.We said a few curse words.We called Shelton.
****
Sergeant Wayne Sheltoncame.
He listened.
He was not happy.
He seemed even less impressed than usual.Possibly because he already had dealing with our friend Kyle on his plate.
On the other hand, he said, “We’re on it.We’ll find him.”
They would question Kam and, when they found him, Haus.
They would follow up on the connections Jennifer found.
They would investigate if he’d killed Nance.
“Shelton, did Jay Haus go the sheriff’s department in the past week—” A darned weak question about a lawyer.I realized that in time to tack on, “—in connection with anything with this investigation?”
I’d swear I could hear him sayingNo, although his only response was a look.
To put credence in thatNo, I had to believe I was intuiting Shelton’s thoughts.
Scary.
The look, however, was clear.This investigation was now out of our hands.
