Salvation (The Protectors 2)

I parked across the street from the house and watched Seth as he sat in his car in the roundabout driveway. I couldn’t actually see him up close but I could see that he hadn’t gotten out of the car. He sat there for a good twenty minutes before putting the car in gear and leaving the house again. I ducked down in my own car so he wouldn’t see me but didn’t follow him. Instead, I got out of the car and walked to a neighboring house across the street and a few doors down where I saw an older woman working on a garden bright with colorful flowers.

“Excuse me,” I said.

She looked up and smiled, her floppy hat covering her brow from the glare of the warm Spring sun.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“The house across the street,” I said pointing to the Nichols house. “I heard it was for sale,” I said, mustering a charming smile that I wasn’t feeling.

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t think that boy will ever sell it,” she added.

“Boy?” I asked.

She shook her head and chuckled. “Well, I suppose he’s not a boy anymore. Seth’s all grown up now but I still remember him from when he used to mow my lawn and help me in my garden,” she said as she motioned to the flowers in front of her.

“So this Seth, the house belongs to him?”

She nodded. “Inherited it after his parents passed. Poor thing,” she added.

“Yeah, the realtor I was talking to mentioned there’d been a robbery and some people died,” I said quietly, trying to keep as much emotion from my voice as possible.

She shook her head. “So sad. It could have been any one of us,” she added and then looked around the neighborhood. She lowered her voice and said, “That boy and his mama weren’t even supposed to be there that night. Bonita – that was their housekeeper at the time – she told me the next day that Seth and his mama were supposed to visit his grandmother up north but she hadn’t been feeling well so they canceled their trip last minute.”

I barely managed to keep my expression neutral as an idea began to rattle around in my head.

“So he still lives there?” I asked.

“Oh dear Lord, no,” she said. “I haven’t seen Seth in years. I keep expecting the house to go up on the market but it hasn’t.”

I nodded. “Well, thank you.”

She gave me a smile and focused on her flowers as I made my way back to my car. The men who’d killed Seth’s parents had never been found and it had been chalked up to a random event, but the idea that Seth’s father was supposed to have been there by himself that night had me wondering things I probably shouldn’t. I supposed I’d gotten too used to dealing with the worst of humanity to blindly accept that sometimes random events were just that – random.

The trip to Mercer Island caused more questions than answers, so I made my way back to the city but didn’t go to Seth’s office. The GPS showed he’d already gotten back there so I knew I had some time before he headed out for the day. I made my way to the southern side of the city and parked in front of a small, converted house that said Harold Brighton, Esquire & Associates.

I’d only met Harry Brighton once when I’d met with him to discuss the surprise inheritance Trace had left me. His office hadn’t changed much over the years. The furniture and décor were outdated and worn and the reception area consisted of one small desk with the same old receptionist sitting behind it, her silver hair twisted around the top of her head in a sloppy bun with a couple of pencils shoved through it to hold it in place. She was looking over the top of her glasses at an ancient looking computer screen that took up about half her desk and there were papers strewn everywhere. There was no one in the waiting area but the TV in the corner of the room was tuned to a talk show of some kind.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked without looking up at me.

“Is Mr. Brighton available?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said before finally straightening her glasses and looking up at me. “Mr. Grisham, how nice to see you again.”

I couldn’t help but be surprised that she remembered me, considering I’d only been there the one time nearly six years ago. Since I couldn’t recall her name, I merely nodded.

“Dolores! I need the Conway file!” I heard a high pitched voice yell and then there was the click-click of heels. A woman rounded the corner from the back of the building where I knew the offices were and stopped when she saw me. Her frown disappeared and she straightened her elegant suit. She was quite attractive and put together and I couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t quite match the laid back atmosphere of the office.