[Georgia 03] Fallen

thing.”
    “That’s my boy.”
    Will watched the trees along the highway blend into a sea of green. “Do you think there’s going to be a ransom?”
    “I hope so.” They both knew that a ransom pointed to a living hostage, or at least the opportunity to demand proof of life.
    He said, “This feels personal.”
    “How so?”
    He shook his head. “The way the house was torn up. There’s mad, and then there’s furious.”
    “I don’t imagine the old girl sat by quietly while they performed their search.”
    “Probably not.” Evelyn Mitchell was no Amanda Wagner, but Will could easily see her taunting the men who were tearing up her house. You didn’t get to be one of the first female captains on the Atlanta police force by being sweet. “They were obviously looking for money.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Clams—the last word Ricardo said to Faith before he died. You said it’s slang for money. Ergo, they were looking for money.”
    “In the silverware drawer?”
    Another good point. Cash was nice, but it was cumbersome. A pile worth kidnapping an ex-Atlanta police captain for would fill several silverware drawers.
    He said, “The arrow was pointing into the backyard.”
    “What arrow?”
    Will suppressed a groan. She wasn’t usually this obvious. “The arrow drawn in Evelyn’s blood underneath the chair she was duct-taped to. I know you saw it. You hissed at me like an air compressor.”
    “You really should work on your metaphors.” She was silent for a beat, probably considering the most circuitous route to take him to nowhere. “You think Evelyn has buried treasure in her backyard?”
    He had to admit this was unlikely, especially considering the Mitchell backyard was on full display to the rest of the neighbors, most of whom were retired and seemed to have ample time to spy. Besides, Will couldn’t picture Faith’s mother out with a shovel and a flashlight in the middle of the night. Then again, it wasn’t like she could put it in the bank.
    “Safe deposit box,” Will tried. “Maybe they were looking for a key.”
    “Evelyn would have to go to the bank and sign in to get access. They’d compare her signature, ask for her ID. Our kidnapper had to know her picture would be on every television station the minute he took her.”
    Will silently conceded the point. Besides, the same rule applied. A large amount of cash took up space. Diamonds and gold were more for Hollywood movies. In real life, stolen jewels fetched pennies on the dollar.
    She asked, “What about the crime scene? Do you think Charlie got it right?”
    Will went on the defense. “Mittal did most of the talking.”
    “Okay, you’ve covered Charlie’s ass. Now answer my question.”
    “The Los Texicanos in the trunk of the Malibu, Evelyn’s gentleman friend. He throws it all out.”
    She nodded. “He wasn’t stabbed. He died from a shot to the head, plus, he’s B-positive. That still leaves us with our B-negative out there with a nasty wound.”
    “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Will resisted the urge to add, “and you know it.” Amanda wasn’t just tying his hands behind his back. She was blindfolding him and sending him toward the edge of a cliff. Her refusal to talk about or even acknowledge Evelyn Mitchell’s sordid past wasn’t going to help Faith and it sure as hell wasn’t going to get her mother back in one piece. Evelyn had worked in narcotics. She was obviously in contact, almost daily, with a higher-up in Los Texicanos, the gang that ran the drug trade in and out of Atlanta. They should be back in the city talking to the gang units and putting together the last few weeks of Evelyn’s life, not making a fool’s errand to visit a guy who had nothing to lose and a history of stubborn silence.
    “Come on, Dr. Trent,” Amanda chided. “Don’t make me pull teeth.”
    Will let his ego get in the way for a few more seconds before saying, “Evelyn’s gentleman friend. His wallet was missing. He didn’t have any ID or money on him. The only thing in his pockets was the key to Evelyn’s Malibu. She must’ve given it to him.”
    “Keep going.”
    “She was making lunch for two people. There were four slices of bread in the toaster. Faith was late. Evelyn didn’t know what time she’d be home, but she would assume Faith would call when she was on her way. There were groceries in the trunk of the Malibu. The receipt says Evelyn used her debit card at the Kroger at 12:02. The