Day 5
Meliza turned over in bed, glancing at the clock. It was just past eight am. She buried herself in the covers, silently grumbling about her tossing and turning last night. She’d had trouble sleeping.
"Why am I surprised?" a male voice came from the doorway of her bedroom.
Meliza opened her eyes to see Miguel standing in the doorway wearing a long-sleeved burgundy polo shirt and blue jeans.
"What are you doing here?"
"I used your spare key, m’ija. And I brought breakfast, too." Miguel grinned. "I'm surprised you weren’t having Chinese last night or this morning."
It took a few seconds for Miguel’s double entendre to sink in. Her eyes widened as she threw off the bedcovers. "So…you did give him your ticket last night…"
Her friend merely headed to the dining room. She went to the bathroom to splash water on her face and remove her hair from its braid. After doing her morning rituals to look decent, she pulled off her sleepshirt and put on a pair of low-rise gray lounge pants and a mint green strappy tank top before joining Miguel in the dining room.
He had set out two plates and on each one, a blueberry scone to be finished off with steaming hot white chocolate mochas.
She took a small piece of her breakfast before Miguel started to press her.
"What happened last night?"
"We were both at the party, we gambled, we went out for late dinner, I dropped him off," Meliza said.
"Nothing else? I get the feeling that there is something long unresolved…" Miguel stated.
"You could say that." Meliza shook her head. "He’s smart, focused, and-"
"Hot?"
Meliza swallowed her drink a little too fast, feeling it burn her tongue. "Ow, ow…um…yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean…sure, his looks first got my attention when we met, but it was the rest of him that really got to me."
Miguel grinned. "I’ve never seen you like this before."
Meliza looked away, her eyes suddenly sad. "It’s because he’s different."
That was the problem. She could easily tell herself that she found herself drawn to him because they hadn’t had the chance to explore whatever happened between them on Fighter’s Isle. But then she’d be lying. Seeing him again after a few years, she could see the subtle differences in him, and it was enough to tell her about the person he’d become. And she liked what she saw. Too much. She briefly wondered if she seemed different in his eyes as well…or like her, was he starting to see what was beneath the surface?
"I wanted to tell you that I’m going to give James a chance," Miguel said quietly, breaking into her thoughts.
Meliza looked up in surprise. "Miguel-"
"If he’ll have me," the man added. "I haven’t been very honest about how I felt. I kept thinking that we are from completely different worlds, there is no way we could ever be a good couple together. Then when he went away on business, I couldn’t focus at all. He’ll be back in town later this morning…I might drop by his restaurant to see if he’s there…"
"I’m happy for you." Meliza reached out, grasping his hand. "You have a lot to offer someone. He’d be a fool to turn you down."
Miguel grinned. "I could say the same about your friend…but he’s way too smart."
"It’s not like that-"
Her friend laughed. "He showed up at the charity ball, right?"
"That’s just-"
Her friend sighed, squeezing her hand. "I know."
She was genuinely happy for her friend. It seemed a long time coming. Miguel was very independent-minded and most of his relationships had been too difficult – mostly because they couldn’t accept that side of him.
"For someone who’s pretty generous with friends and family, it’s funny that you haven’t let yourself get close to anybody," Miguel mused.
She knew he was referring to relationships. "That’s just how it is. You know that."
Sure, some men she met were decent. But she never carried it further. She chose not to. And then there were the dogs.
"It doesn’t mean I get it," Miguel responded. He frowned when Meliza pulled her hand away. "Don’t get mad…I’m just pointing out that you need-"
"What?" Meliza arched a brow. "Don’t tell me I need to be in a relationship to be happy."
"Of course not," Miguel assured. "I’m just saying that there’s nothing wrong in letting yourself go. The past is in the past, mi’ja. How long are you going to live in it?"
Meliza began gathering her empty plate, cup and napkins. "I’m not living in the past, Miguel…"
"Yes, you are."
She rose to her feet, massaging one temple. "Look…I’m happy for you and your…discovery. James is a good guy, and I hope he takes up your offer. Unfortunately, I’m not in a position to be making advances like you."
"Why not? He’s self-reliant, looks good, smart, interested in at least one thing you are...a girl could do a lot worse. I’m trying to see a negative here," Miguel shrugged.
==
Meliza watched Miguel drive away, relieved to have the house to herself. She loved her friend's blunt honesty. And he was right. She was interested in Locke, she just needed to figure out what to do about it.
Sighing, Meliza made her way back to the kitchen to wash a few dishes. After completing that task, she pulled out a group of papers and coupons from a drawer to clean them out. She hadn’t touched that drawer in months, and she had made a mental note to herself to clean her kitchen that day. Until one particular document and business card caught her attention…
==
Ring. Ring.
Locke’s eyes slowly opened to the darkness of his hotel room. Sometime during the night, he had pulled the curtains closed and stripped down to his boxers before falling into bed. He craned his neck to see the nightstand clock display ten a.m.
Hell…
He’d been in bed that long? Locke turned over, seeing that sunlight peeked through a crack in the bottom of the curtains.
He sighed as the phone rang again. It wasn’t like him to be in bed so late. He’d had trouble sleeping last night thanks to…thinking too much. He reached over the nightstand and pulled the phone off its hook.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Did I catch you at a bad time?"
He slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Meliza?"
"Actually, my name is Destiny and I randomly call men so I can tell them my fantasies."
"Does it pay well?" he asked wryly.
Meliza laughed. "Sometimes."
It was strangely comfortable, talking on the phone to her like this. What happened to the cold woman from last night? She was naturally a forward person, half of the time he suspected was because she was happy with it as long as she and the man in question knew where he stood with her. Which put him in a very interesting position.
"Are you busy today?" she asked.
"What did you have in mind?"
"It’s my boss’ birthday in a week and I need to buy him a gift. I need to do some errands first, but it’s near your area so I can pick you up after. I need a second opinion from a guy who doesn’t only buy Italian designer clothes…"
==
She wasn’t sure why she had been particularly compelled to clean out that drawer this morning. It seemed that her past was catching up to her faster than she could do anything about it. First Locke, now this. Meliza stared at the folded paper in her hand.
"Ms. Rinaldo, Mr. Hendrick will see you now," the secretary in the plush waiting area said from behind her desk.
Meliza got up from her seat on the leather couch and thanked the woman before going through the glass doors that would lead to the lawyers’ offices. She turned to the left and went two doors down, skimming the names on the doors before knocking and opening it.
Paul Hendrick was a lean five-ten with sandy brown hair and hazel, emotionless eyes. When he shook her hand, she detected no warmth or welcome from his personality.
"Ms. Rinaldo, have a seat."
"Thank you for seeing me on short notice."
"It’s no problem. How can I help you?"
"I actually came to show you this…" Meliza held out the piece of paper in her hand.
He accepted it and opened it, scanning the contents before closing it. "I see…"
"I’d just like to know what happened to it. Especially since my name is on that title…" Meliza clasped her hands in her lap.
"Of course. Why don’t I make a copy of this and I’ll look into it and get back to you? I’m not sure what happened here…or how I could have missed this…"
==
Meliza surveyed her reflection in the mirror. A part of her felt guilty, indulging in a little shopping for herself. At least she had bought Ryan’s gift already. It was neatly placed in a gift bag on the dressing room bench next to her purse. As she and Locke had passed by the women’s department in the store, she had nearly strained her neck when her eye caught a jumpsuit outfit.
He decided to wander through the store while she tried the outfit on.
She really should be entertaining her guest. Meliza tilted her head to one side to study her reflection some more. The peach-colored halter jumpsuit was definitely different compared to items she normally bought.
A glance at her cell phone told her that she had only separated from Locke for about thirty minutes. Tossing her phone back in her purse, she reached behind her to unzip the outfit.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Meliza’s head shot up at the strange sound echoing in the narrow dressing room, shortly followed by a groan and a thud, as if something hit the floor. Hurried footsteps faded away. She opened her door a crack, and with the help of the three-way mirror, spotted a figure dressed in black run towards the dressing room exit and dash away.
She frowned. What the…?
Her eyes widened at the sight of three holes on the door of the dressing room next to hers. Meliza bent slightly, peeking through a hole to see a dark-haired woman slumped against the blood-spattered mirror. She was still in her bra and panties, wearing a pair of black kitten heels in a style exactly like hers, and had been halfway through trying on a white halter sundress with black flowers. Blood trickled from her abdomen and head.
Swearing, Meliza rose to her feet, trying to open the door with her hand. She narrowed her eyes at the handle and the lock unlatched, causing the door to slowly open.
"Someone help!" she shouted.
Two doors further down opened and peered out into the hallway, pale and scared.
"Call 911!" Meliza ordered. "This woman’s been shot!"
==
Locke handed the sales clerk the watch he had just tried on. His position gave him a perfect view of the mall’s interior beyond the department store, and he spotted four security guards heading towards the department store. Two on the bottom floor, and two making their way down the escalator. It had been a natural habit of his, to notice everyone in his surroundings.
Just then, his cell phone rang. Pulling it off its holder clip, he put the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
"It’s Meliza. Can you come to the second floor, women’s dressing room on the far right corner when you get off the escalator?"
He immediately detected alarm in her voice and he quickly made his way towards the escalator. "What’s wrong?" he asked quietly.
"The woman in the dressing room next to me has just been shot."
"Are you alone?"
"No…a couple customers are here…one of the sales clerks is here…she just called 911 and security…they’re on their way…"
"Give me five minutes." Locke glanced back towards the mall/department store entrance and saw security enter.
Their movements were purposeful, but not too hurried, as not to raise alarm. Locke began to walk up the escalator and make his way towards Meliza. His trained eyes caught sight of two women, a brunette and a redhead, standing close hugging each other just outside the dressing room entrance. A petite blonde sales clerk stood several feet away from them with Meliza pacing behind her.
She was hugging her arms in a tight grip, her face unusually pale.
"Are you all right?" he asked. Without thinking, he reached up, closing his hands over hers.
She nodded, apparently unable to speak.
Within minutes, police and security had arrived, securing the area. Locke spotted a tall, brown-skinned man with graying hair begin to interview several of the women there after he had checked the crime scene. Judging by his task, he must have been the leading detective.
By the time he had reached Meliza, Meliza and Locke had already settled in a set of chairs by the cash register, a good thirty feet away from the dressing room.
"Detective Terrence Smith." He held out two business cards which they accepted.
Meliza offered her hand and he accepted, shaking it firmly. "Meliza Rinaldo."
"Rinaldo? As in the hotels and casinos here?"
"That’s right…"
When the detective turned to Locke, Locke introduced himself and shook the detective’s hand. "Devlin Cai. I’m a friend of hers."
"You certainly got here fast, Mr. Cai," the detective mused aloud.
"I was already in the store…this area wasn’t secure until after I already came up here," Locke explained.
"I was buying a present for my boss," Meliza added. "So I dragged him along…bought a pair of cufflinks and then I stopped by the women’s section. He went off somewhere else in the store and we agreed to meet later. But after...I found the woman…I called him and told him where I was." Her eyes widened. "Was that the wrong thing to do?"
The detective sighed. "No…but why don’t we start from the beginning. I want to hear more around the time you found the woman..."
Locke sat back and listened quietly as Meliza described what had happened in the dressing room. She looked calm, if a bit pale, shock filling her eyes. She had seen a lot worse, he knew. He had the feeling that she just expected her days to be normal after what happened on Fighter’s Isle.
The picture she had painted was a somber one. Apparently the shooter had used a silencer. He hadn’t wanted to risk shooting in public, so he had gone into the dressing room. And according to Meliza, he had dressed in clothes that would make him unidentifiable.
"Did you see the victim earlier while shopping around? Did she seem nervous, or anything?" Detective Smith asked.
"No, I didn’t notice her anywhere nearby." Meliza shook her head. "Sorry."
The detective continued to write something down.
"May I ask who the victim is?" she inquired after a few minutes.
Smith shook his head. "Unfortunately, we can’t release that info until her family’s been informed."
"Right."
"Thank you…you’ve been very calm throughout all of this," the detective said. "It’s not easy for anyone to go through. Your statement looks complete. But if you remember anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me."
"Thank you." Meliza pushed her hair back, her expression tired. "So I’m done here?"
"Yes. I’ll call you when we’re able to release the victim’s name."
"Thanks."
"Here…why don’t I walk you two out…where did you park?"
They made their way to the parking structure adjacent to the department store, the detective engaging in small talk. The detective wrote down both of their cell numbers in case he needed to speak to them again, but other than that, they were free to leave as he went back to handle the final details at the scene. Meliza opened the trunk of her Mercedes and dropped the bag containing Ryan’s gift inside before slamming it shut.
"Do you need me to drive?" Locke asked quietly.
"It’s okay. I have to drop you off at the hotel."
After a moment, he said, "You shouldn’t be alone right now. After that…no one should be."
"Miguel’s with his boyfriend right now," she declared.
"I wasn’t referring to just him."
She nodded. "I know. And I appreciate it. But…I’d really feel better if I just went home by myself."
Meliza must have sensed that he wasn’t going to argue, so she unlocked her car with the push of a button on her keychain. He opened the driver door for her and closed it once she had settled in.
The drive was quiet for a good ten minutes.
"You know…" Meliza spoke up suddenly. "I just realized…that woman…who had been trying on clothes in the room next to me…She had long black hair…her taste in clothes was similar to mine…"
"Meaning what?"
"Nothing. It’s just…eerie."
Sounded to him like a strange coincidence.
"When you…were given a job…" Meliza began softly. "How did you prepare for it? Did you do a lot of research? Observe any routine patterns? And when it was over…did you…?"
She couldn’t bring herself to finish, so he did. "Feel sorry that I did it?" At her nod, he closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them to stare out the passenger’s side window.
They weren’t seriously having this conversation, were they? He detected no judgmental tone from her. But how could he explain his past life to someone who didn’t understand? Someone who had never experienced what he had?
"I did my research," he said, keeping his voice low and neutral. "I believed in getting a job done efficiently, with any means necessary." Locke ran his fingers through his hair before staring up at the car roof. "Most of my targets were people no one should ever meet. Some of them…were just inconveniences. They just happened to be in my clients’ way. They were normal, every day people. I didn’t have any trouble sleeping at night once a job was done. Money had a way of blocking guilt…"
"No regrets?"
"Maybe when I first started," Locke admitted. "But I think my first couple assignments seemed…blurry. As if only half of me was really there. Then I got used to it and started evaluating myself…what I could have done better and faster." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye before looking out the windshield. "Someone told me that once you become an assassin, you can’t escape it. It will always be a part of you."
"Is that how you see it?" she asked softly.
"I don’t think I can walk into a room and not instantly notice all my surroundings."
"Is that the assassin or the gambler in you?"
"Maybe both." He frowned. "When I was younger, all I cared about was strength…power…money." He cleared his throat, not sure why he was in a particularly talkative mood today. It was very unlike him. "A few years ago…on assignment…I…met someone. For the first time…all of those didn’t matter anymore."
"What happened?"
"We…thought about leaving the business together…start over…but it didn’t work out that way."
"She died," Meliza concluded softly.
"Yes." He never told anyone this part of his past. Why he was telling Meliza…on a day like this…
"So what happened after?"
"I arranged for a burial and went right back to work," he stated.
"You felt your chance to start over died with her."
His silence was all the confirmation she needed. He was surprised that she didn’t press anymore about that part of his life. But maybe because she already knew what she needed to know. Meliza pulled up behind the busy line of cars at the front of the hotel casino, placing the car in park. He looked at her in surprise when he felt her hand touch his.
"I’m glad you had a chance to start over again, Locke. You seem to be handling it just fine."
She leaned towards him, placing a kiss on his cheek. As she pulled back, she paused, hesitating, then touched her lips to his. He froze in shock. Meliza easily picked up his lack of response, but just as she began to withdraw, he tilted his head, deepening the kiss.
After many long moments, Meliza suddenly moved away, averting her gaze towards her lap, her blue-black hair forming a curtain over her profile. But not before he caught the rise of color in her cheeks.
He kept his eyes on her, not quite sure what to say…and not quite sure if either of them needed to say anything. She was very still, and he could hear his own heart thud against his chest, and his breathing, to his own ears, sounded like he was running a marathon. Locke saw the tremble in her fingers before she reached up to smooth her hair back. When those brown eyes turned to him, he immediately spotted the cool, unreadable mask on her features. For a fleeting second, he hated it.
"Thanks…for your help today," she said quietly.
He took a deep breath. "You’re welcome. If you need anything..."
Understanding him, she gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "I will."
Locke pushed the door open and stepped out of the car, closing it behind him before he made his way into the hotel casino entrance.
Meliza watched him go, her hands gripping the steering wheel hard. When he walked through the doors of the hotel, she released a shaky sigh, sagging in her seat, her slender fingers reaching up to massage her temples.
She hadn’t planned on this. Not at all.
This morning she decided her interaction with him was supposed to be brief. Simple. No strings. A quick affair if he was interested, because she was an average woman with needs like anyone else. So once she had accepted that she was attracted to him, she did what she normally did. She hadn’t counted on feeling…uncertain…awkward…or vulnerable. No man ever had that effect on her…not since…
She closed her eyes.
What was she going to do?
==
Meliza was in the middle of a small movie marathon at home when her doorbell rang. After what had happened earlier, she had gone straight home, mentally exhausted. She had dropped Locke off a few hours ago, and given that it was way past dinner time, she probably should be thinking about eating.
She got up and moved to the door, seeing Locke through the peephole. What's he doing here? She opened the door, seeing that he also had a plastic bag of what smelled like Hawaiian food.
"Hi," Meliza greeted, showing her surprise at his presence.
"I came by to see how you're doing," he said without preamble.
"And you brought a bribe," she declared, pointing to the bag.
He smiled slightly in response.
Meliza crossed her arms, leaning against the doorjamb. "How'd you find where I live?"
Locke arched a brow. "I'm resourceful."
She didn't move from her position. Neither did he.
After a few seconds, and after the aroma of what was in the bag drove her crazy, Meliza relented, stepping back to let him in. Her living room was right by the front door. To his right was the kitchen.
Her decor was elegant, simple, but contemporary. She chose solid colors - a charcoal gray microsuede lounge chair and sofa, with green throw pillows, a small, circular dark coffee table in the middle of the living room where a centerpiece made of three tea candles sat. A 37-inch LCD screen was mounted on the wall opposite the couch. On the right side of the TV was a controlled fireplace. Beneath the TV was a short chest of sliding doors, he guessed was storage.
A lot bigger than his New York apartment. But just as nicely decorated.
She apparently noticed him looking, so she took the bag of food from him. "Why don't I show you the rest of the house after I put this down?"
The kitchen and dining room were separated by a breakfast bar. The entire house was spacious due to its vaulted ceilings. The dining room had a glass table and black chairs, reflecting her elegant but simple style. A brief walk around the house showed a guest room and bath downstairs, and upstairs, three bedrooms and two baths. One bedroom served as her office, the other as another guest room, containing similar decor to the guest room downstairs - charcoal gray and cream colored beddings - and the last the master bedroom. The master bedroom was very different compared to the rest of the house. This room had mirror closets and a circular bed with deep red and black satin-looking sheets and large throw pillows. A dresser against the wall had some random clutter on top - photos, lotions, and body sprays.
Once downstairs, she retrieved some silverware and plates before opening the bags of food to find barbeque chicken, stir-fried ahi, and rice. Meliza shot him a look.
"How did you know?"
"About?"
Meliza gestured to the food. "About the ahi."
He shrugged before retrieving a plate and fork, handing them to her.
They ate in companionable silence and when finished, Meliza washed the dishes.
She looked up as the doorbell rang. Locke moved to the front door, opening it. Meliza quickly moved behind him to see Detective Smith standing on the other side.
"Ms. Rinaldo, Mr. Cai. Mind if I come in and talk?" the detective asked.
"Is everything all right?" Meliza inquired.
"Maybe I should come in first before I say anything."
As they stepped back to let him in, he surveyed the surroundings.
"Nice," he said appreciatively.
"Thanks."
"May I sit?" the detective gestured to the lounge chair.
"Of course." Meliza sat on the sofa, curling her legs under her while Locke leaned against the wall separating the kitchen and living room. "What is it you need to talk about?"
"I should have asked you more questions," the detective said.
"I told you everything I remember," Meliza said.
"Did you?" Detective Smith pressed.
"Yes," Meliza answered.
"I checked up on you," Smith announced after a moment of quiet. "We haven't come up with anything yet on the case, so normal procedure is to do a background check on witnesses. I found something on you...well, more about one of your boyfriends...Tiberius Steinman."
Locke knew the name based on his research into Meliza's personal life. The man had been selling illegal stocks for six months before he left Atlantic City.
Meliza massaged her temples. "All right...I admit. I made a mistake when it came to him...what does that have to do with anything?"
"Anytime we see something a little troubling, we like to dig deeper," the detective explained.
He gazed at her, as if expecting her to say something else, possibly incriminating. She sighed, got up and went to the door.
"I think you'd better leave."
The detective remain seated.
Silence.
Meliza opened the door and waited.
The detective didn't move. Meliza patiently stayed where she was.
Locke studied Smith for a few moments before narrowing his eyes slightly. "Detective."
Smith sighed. "Nothing adds up. There has to be more to the story."
Meliza scooted aside one of her short heels by the door as she waited. Something trickled into her brain. When she was in the dressing room...for whatever reason, she remembered what the victim was wearing.
"Meliza?" Locke prompted.
She looked up into dark eyes. And she knew that he knew something was wrong.
"I can't help but think that...the victim and I...looked similar from behind. The hair, the frame..." Meliza bent down, picking up one of her heels. "We even had the same taste in shoes...only mine are navy blue."
The detective sat up straight. "The victim had just bought black shoes that day...when we checked out the dressing room, her original shoes were a pair of pink sandals that were set to the side..." He scowled. "I...I didn't even bother to make the connection between what you were already wearing and what she was trying on..."
"If the dressing room wasn't brightly lit..." Locke said quietly. He frowned. "Were you wearing those in the dressing room?"
Meliza looked at him in alarm. "When I was trying on clothes, I took my shoes off. Lighting near the floor wasn't very good..." The significance of what they all had said hit her. "Oh no."
Smith pressed his lips in a grim line. "If the shooter identified his intended victim by shoes...it's likely you're a target."
Closing the door, Meliza had gone very pale. Very unusual for a woman who was used to not showing emotion. Locke directed his comments to the detective.
"Let's say that the intended target was supposed to be the victim," Locke spoke up. "What would be the reason?"
"We're still digging, but she seems clean. Nothing ever reported on her."
"Random act?"
"Not many people go around committing random acts. A hit like that, with no witnesses, there's always a reason. But it's a possibility."
"And if Meliza was the intended target-"
"Most likely a reason. Steinman made a lot of money doing what he did. Someone might have caught on and tried to get to him through her..." He shrugged. "Too many other possible reasons. She could be hiding something else about him..."
Meliza propped her hands on her hips. "How long are you two going to talk as if I'm not here?"
Locke looked up, slightly surprised.
"Let's go over your relationship with him," Smith suggested.
Meliza sighed. What else was there to say? She met the guy five months ago, dated for a few weeks, not even really were officially exclusive. He worked long hours, clearly made money thanks to the cars he drove and the jewelry he always bought her which she never really liked.
They were quiet for several moments.
Locke shook his head. "Too many...strange coincidences when it comes to you right now. You need to be careful."
"I agree," the detective said.
"Look, I'm not going to live wondering and scared about what could possibly happen." She glared at both men. "I'm tired and I think you both should go."
"Are you out of your mind?" Locke glared right back, definitely not intimidated.
The detective was a little more diplomatic. "Ms. Rinaldo-"
"Meliza," she corrected.
"Meliza, by tomorrow morning the woman's name will be reported on the news. If you were the intended target...the shooter may come back. I think it's best that you stay with a friend until we have more information about what's going on."
"I'll think about it."
Ignoring her statement, Locke spoke up. "Get your things. You're staying with me."
"I'm flattered. But no."
Locke rolled his eyes. "Or Miguel or anyone. Just as long as you're not here."
"No." She crossed her arms. "I believe you two were leaving."
"I never said I was," Locke argued.
"It's not up to you," Meliza countered. "This is my home. And I want you both out."
After a moment, the detective made his way to the door with Locke following. Meliza closed the door behind them after thanking them. She really was touched by their concern for her welfare, but she felt she could handle herself just fine. Maybe she'd call Miguel and see if he wanted company...
Outside, Locke slowly walked down the driveway, the detective trailing behind. "I'm going to stay here...keep an eye on her."
Smith smiled wryly. "One of my PI buddies owes me one. I could talk to him...see if he could watch her."
Locke moved his hands to his pockets, glancing back towards the house. "Fine. Just...tell him not to underestimate her."
"Sounds like you think she could give him a little trouble."
"More like a headache," Locke said wryly.
"All right, I'll let him know. We still
have some digging to do...I'll see what else I can find and call you."