~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Four~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Rygali?" Trent asked sharply.
"There was a picture of him in the records I found last
night," Carlos explained.
"Can I get your name, please?" the cop asked. Carlos
pulled out his badge. "Detective Carlos Sandoval, Dallas
P.D."
"Thank you for your help, Detective Sandoval," the
other cop said as an ambulance arrived. There’d been no
hurry, since there was no chance of resuscitation.
"Do you need us for anything else, officer?" Trent
asked. He and Jen had given their statements before Carlos
had arrived.
"You’re free to go," the officer answered with a wan
smile.
* * *
Trent, Carlos, and Jen stood next to the ‘Vette.
Trent was still stewing over the news.
"That was Samuel Rygali," he stated. Carlos nodded.
"And the police estimate that he’s been dead for two
days," Jen added.
Carlos shrugged. "At least we know why he didn’t call
the police this morning."
"Were you guys at Rygali’s house last night?" Jen asked,
piecing together the conversation.
The guys caught her up on the case.
"Did Red say he’d come back for anything he’d left
behind?" Jen wondered. "Other than his apprentices? An
object of great value, perhaps?"
Trent caught on to Jen’s line of thinking. "Maybe
whoever was in Rygali’s home was searching for something
Rygali had."
"Or something he thought Rygali had," Jen added.
"Or something that could implicate him in Rygali’s
death," Carlos added. He glanced at his watch. "I’d better
get back to the station." He looked directly at Trent.
"Don’t go getting into any trouble."
"Wouldn’t think of it," Trent answered innocently.
Carlos shook his head and walked away.
* * *
Trent parked the ‘Vette a block from Rygali’s house.
"Remember," he instructed Jen, "if anything happens and
we get split up, we meet back here."
"Tell me again why we’re doing this now, in broad
daylight?" Jen demanded, trying to keep her voice low.
This was just crazy!
"Because the cops will never let us in if they seal the
house off as a crime scene," Trent explained reasonably.
Jen nodded. "That makes sense. Do you think he was
attacked here before being dumped in the bay?"
"I think it’s possible," Trent admitted. "And I’m
pretty sure that the cops will come to the same conclusion."
He handed her a pair of thin surgical gloves, then put on a
pair of his own.
"So, we’re looking for anything that could give us a
clue to the identity of the burglar or whatever he could
have been searching for," Jen deduced, wondering if the
burglar had already found what he’d been looking for.
Jen pretended to knock on the door as Trent picked the
lock.
"You’d make a good criminal," Jen whispered as he
pushed the door open.
"Thank you," he answered, ushering her inside. He shut
and locked the door behind them.
"I’ll check upstairs," Jen volunteered, heading for the
stairs.
"Be careful," he warned, examining the coffee table.
"Gee, Trent," Jen said impishly, heading up the stairs.
"I didn’t know you cared!" She disappeared from sight.
Trent grinned and shook his head, then returned to his
searching.
* * *
When thorough searches of the living room, dining room,
and kitchen failed to turn up anything, Trent moved on to
the den. This was the room the ship had been launched from.
Trent moved quickly to the mantle and ran his finger
across the empty section where The Jolly Redger had set.
Judging by the dust on his glove and that surrounding the
spot where the replica ship had lain, Trent guessed that no
one had even touched the mantle for several years. Until
the other night, he reminded himself.
The replica ship itself had been dust free, Trent
realized. So the intruder must have wiped it off, probably
to see if it was what he was looking for. And it obviously
hadn’t been, or he wouldn’t have thrown it through the
window in anger, he’d have taken it with him.
What was so special about that ship?
* * *
Jen finished searching the bedrooms and she pulled the
attic door open. She climbed the stairs and could only gaze
in amazement at the huge room. It had once been furnished
as a child’s bedroom, but it had fallen into disrepair.
The fabrics of the curtains and the bedspread had yellowed
with age, and cobwebs covered everything.
"Mr. Rygali sure was a lousy housekeeper," Jen muttered,
brushing aside some cobwebs. The desk was antique, as were
many of the pieces of furniture in the room.
Jen, hearing a car outside, crossed to the front window.
A police car was parked in front of the house, and two cops
were just climbing out.
Knowing that her voice would never carry to the first
floor any other way, Jen stopped next to the heating vents,
hoping for an unobstructed path to Trent’s ears.
"Trent!" she called through the heat vent.
"Jen?" she heard faintly a moment later.
"Trent, you have to get out now!"
"What? Where are you?" Trent had found the source of
Jen’s voice.
"The attic. There are cops outside!"
"What about you?"
"I’ll meet you at the car!" Jen promised. "Go!"
Stepping away from the heating vent, Jen’s foot found a
weak spot in the floor. Jen crashed through the wood to
the room below!
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