“Hey, Vince,” she said after glancing at the caller ID.
“Bailey, hi. Um, are you nearby?”
“Yeah, I’m down the street at the rental. Why?”
“I think you should come home. The FBI is here with a search warrant.”
“Oh, wow.” She looked down at the TV again, and a photo of one of her Uncle Pat’s letters was being shown as part of Rosa’s Exhibit B. “I’ll be right there.”
Her family was still focused on the TV, and only Linda had even acknowledged that she’d entered the house. She shrugged and said, “I’ve got to go.” Then she left.
Bailey stormed out of the house and rushed home. When she arrived, Ryan had already parked his car. He met Bailey on the path. “What the hell is this about?”
“I don’t know,” she said, glancing up at Vince as he approached. The look on his face was slightly panicked.
Ryan put his hands up in the air. “I haven’t done anything, Dad. I swear.”
“Ryan, it’s Sharpe.” He glanced at Bailey then back at Ryan. “I think this has something to do with Helen.”
“What?” Ryan said. “Why would they want to search a dead woman’s belongings?”
Bailey’s insides shriveled up and twisted. The FBI couldn’t possibly believe her mother was a criminal. “I just got a glimpse of Rosa Sikes’ show over at the rental. She had one of my Uncle Pat’s letters and has accused my parents of kidnapping me as an infant.”
“What the fuck?” Ryan said. “How the hell…”
“Bailey, I thought those letters were stolen during the last break-in,” Vince said.
“They were.” She turned and stormed into the house.
The screen door slammed behind her, and the crack of the wood frame smacking shut had heads rising. Two men were searching the living room, one at her mother’s desk, his gloved hands touching things they shouldn’t. A pair of shiny handcuffs were clamped on his belt, the letters FBI in yellow stamped across his chest.
“Stop!” She gripped his wrist. “You have no right to touch these things. You have”—her breath caught in her throat—“no right to be in this house!”
Someone braced her shoulders from behind. She twisted to get out of his grip but settled when she met Ryan’s eyes. “Careful, Bailey. Don’t do anything stupid, or you’ll get yourself into trouble.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.” She turned to face the other agent in the room. “And neither has my mother. Get out!”
“Ma’am.” Another man with FBI on his chest came down the steps and approached her. “We have a warrant to search the premises.”
Bailey reached for the paper he handed her.
“Where’s Agent Sharpe?” Ryan asked, his hand now wrapped around Bailey’s upper arm.
Bailey started reading.
United States District Court
In the Matter of the Search of:
743 Lakeview Dr.
It was a full page of small print. By the time she finished reading, they’d be done with their search. “Oh hell…what does this mean? Just tell me what you’re doing.” When she looked up, Agent Sharpe was descending the stairs. “Agent Sharpe, what the hell is going on here? Why are these men—”
“Ms. Morton, let’s step outside and talk.” He waved a hand at the door.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop searching first.”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t do that.”
The screen door slammed behind her, and she felt another set of hands on her shoulders. “What’s going on here?” Alex said.
“They’re digging through our things.” She handed the paperwork to Alex. “They’re making a mess of everything. Agent Sharpe, Ryan and I live here. Why are you searching through our belongings?”
Sharpe motioned to the door again. “Please, let’s go outside.”
“Bailey, go with him. I’ll stay inside and keep an eye on things,” Vince said.
She looked from Sharpe to Vince then to Ryan, who nodded.
“Fine.” She stormed out of the house, and before she turned on him, she’d noted Linda and James were outside waiting. “What’s this about?” she asked Sharpe. “Why are you searching my house?”
“Is this true?” Alex said, flipping the document toward Sharpe as he followed them out of the house. “I didn’t think that tabloid show ever got anything right, but this is exactly what she was reporting.”
“Mr. Spatz, we believe it’s true. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” Sharpe exhaled heavily and bowed his head. “We had enough evidence to gain a search warrant.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Bailey said. “You don’t actually believe my mother had something to do with this, do you? That’s ridiculous.”
Alex leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, the document crumpled in his hand. His face paled, and his lips pushed into a straight line. “I can’t believe this. I just cannot believe this. How could anyone be so— Murderers. They’re all murderers.”
His breathing hitched, and Bailey thought he was going to hyperventilate.
Sharpe turned to another agent. “We may need an EMT.”
Bailey tried to get him to look at her, but his eyes were stretched wide and focused steadily on the ground. He laid a hand on his chest as his breathing increased further.
“Alex, are you okay?” Linda said, approaching him. “Here, sweetie, sit down.”
“Vince,” Bailey yelled from the front yard. She gripped her father’s arm. “Please, try to take a deep breath. You’re scaring me.”
“Do you know what I went through? Do you know what these people put me through?” He panted, sweat forming on his face.
Vince rushed down the front steps and faced Alex, his hands resting on his shoulders. “Alex, have a seat over here.” He tried nudging Alex toward the bench in front of the house.
“Don’t touch me.” Alex jerked away. “I don’t want you touching me. You must’ve known. You were all friends.”
When he swayed slightly, James grabbed him
