Even behind her eyelids she saw the house. A fantasy scenario of how her meeting with Kevin Steen might play out looped in her mind, then she shot awake, craving the meeting for real. She pushed the exhaustion to one side, kept her eyes glued on the house and only blinked when she really needed to.
It was going to be a long day.
***
Ella glanced over at the dashboard clock. Nearly two hours had passed, and everything was still the same. A row of houses, an empty street, and nothing in Steen’s house had changed.
One time when she was working for the Virginia Police Department, an officer had told her that chasing down criminals made up one percent of a cop’s job. The other ninety-nine percent was spent staring at people’s houses. That ninety-nine percent, he said, was why so many cops killed themselves. She thought he was joking, but actually doing the task painted his comments in a different light.
No missed calls from Byford. No messages from Mark, for a change. She began to feel like time was running out here, and she couldn’t risk wasting time for fear of another life being lost. In the past three and a half hours, only two pedestrians had walked past. This was an optimistic task, but a lost cause given the urgency.
Ella put her key in the ignition and flipped it once. She studied her surroundings one more time. She no longer saw this street as an animated, tangible part of the world she lived in, rather a two-dimensional backdrop hung up at the rear of the stage where her life story played out.
But then something came to her. A note of irregularity. She saw movement where she hadn’t before.
Someone was outside Kevin Steen’s house. Going through the gate. Pushing a key into the door.
Ella fired out of her seat with the speed of a cheetah. She softly closed the car door as not to alert the man to her presence. She couldn’t make out his features so wasn’t sure if it was the suspect or not, but who else would be venturing into his home?
She crossed the road, noticing that the door was left wide open. From that, she could only deduce that whoever had arrived wasn’t planning on staying long. She thought of the times she’d forgotten her purse and had to run back to her apartment: in, leave door open, out again in seconds. It saved messing around with the latches.
Ella quickly one-rung her partner. There was no time to chat. He’d know what she meant. She gripped her pistol and handcuffs and swooped towards the house, making her way silently to the still-open front door. She caught her first glimpse of the interior and was impressed by the little she saw. She never expected a thief to have such good taste. She stood ready for battle, put her racing thoughts to rest, then pushed the door open.
On the other side, something stopped its momentum. Then like a ghostly apparition, Kevin Steen appeared in front of her. He looked much different than his police mugshot. He was 57 years old but looked older, with a shaved head, deep brown eyes, and thin pink lips. Ella saw a scrawny physique beneath his beige trousers and white jacket.
Kevin gave no introduction, simply went about his business as though she didn’t exist.
“Mr. Steen?” she asked. She caught his eye for a second, then he stepped outside his house and tried to slam his door shut. Ella wedged her foot in the gap, eager to see the contents of his house. Somewhere in there would be evidence of his crimes. Steen walked off down the pathway.
“Kevin,” she shouted. “I’m with the FBI. Please stay where you are.”
Kevin did not comply; he turned the corner out of his house and started up the pathway. Ella jumped over the small fence and cut him off at the pass. “Kevin, we need to speak with you,” she said as she showed him her badge.
Then the suspect froze. He checked his phone and turned in the other direction. Ella ran after him, caught up and grabbed him by the wrist. Kevin Steen spun to face her, bringing his nose right up against hers.
“You stay out of this, little woman. You hear?”
His voice was rough and gravelly like his vocal cords had charred to flakes. Her face against his, she didn’t blink or twitch or move.
“Kevin, you’ve got three seconds to start talking, and I suggest you do it.”
He pushed up against her. A classic intimidation tactic. The force displaced her balance, but she kept upright. Ella had seen it a million times.
“Trust me. You don’t want any of this. Go home. This never happened.”
“Wanna tell me who the big four are?”
Steen’s lips arched down at the edges. He sniffed violently then spat in Ella’s face. At her moment of disorientation, she heard footsteps escape from her. She wiped the residue from her eyes then saw Steen running back towards his house. Ella took chase, leaping over the fence and barging shoulder-first into the door. It slammed shut the micro-second she connected with it. It shook on its hinges but stayed firmly in place.
Her brief interaction had confirmed one thing. Kevin Steen was guilty of something.
Ella took two steps back and booted the door with everything she had. It flung open, breaking in two places. Ella leaped inside the home and found herself in the lounge with no sign of a suspect anywhere. She listened for any signs of life but caught nothing.
She ran through the downstairs area, familiarizing herself with the layout and looking for any places where Kevin might hide from her. He’d run back in here for a reason, and something told her she’d quickly find out what it was.
The back door leading to the garden. Locked. All the sizeable windows. Locked. Kevin must be somewhere in here. He couldn’t have gotten outside so suddenly.
Ella withdrew her pistol and held the weaver stance as she turned into the hallway.
“Kevin, make yourself known. That’s an order,” she shouted, expecting nothing by way of reply. From the hallway, she moved up the staircase. At the top, she found four closed doors. Without hesitation, she booted the first one and found a completely barren room. Next in line was the bathroom. Empty with no places to hide.
She raised her foot to take the third door but stopped when she heard a noise. Tap tap. Then a scratching sound. She looked up and saw an attic, its cord swaying with life.
Ella wasted no time pulling it down. A wooden staircase toppled down, and Ella had to jump back to avoid it. There was no disguising her invasion, so Ella decided to own it.
“Yield now, Kevin, and I won’t shoot,” she shouted as she ascended to the peak of the house. A glass roof panel let in just enough light to make out the shape of the room.
“Kevin, I know you’re up here. Come out now. You’re not getting out.”
Wooden boards creaked beneath her feet as she checked the corners. Back to the wall, pistol jumping between the darkened parts of the room. There was a stash of crates in one corner, a pile of bags in the other. She edged along the wall, coming to the third corner, then heard a clink beneath her boot.
Ella glanced down and saw a shining silver coin reflecting back at her. Not one she recognized. An imported one.
Suddenly, she found herself lowering down to it. Not of her own free will, but by an absence of it. A forceful blow to the back of her skull sent her downward and she found herself eye-to-eye with the face on the coin. Her first instinct was to grip her pistol to ensure it stayed put, but a heavy boot to her wrist unlocked her clenched hand. Her attacker kicked the pistol out of reach, rolled her over and clasped his hand around her neck. She felt his fingernails dig into her flesh to the point it drew blood.