“I haven’t personally, no. But the neighbor has. And I’ve met him,” Deven added as an afterthought. “He is definitely hiding something. So, I’m not sure if he tried to hurt her and she escaped and went into hiding. He may be hiding her. I don’t know but, it’s something.”

Silence. Deven suddenly felt ridiculous, and she wished Paul would say something. Anything to make her sound less like an idiot in denial of her sister’s suicide.

McKinney flipped the cover down on the pad and looked to the note again. “And does any of this have anything to do with Amber Wright?” she asked, her face hardening.

“I-I . . . don’t know.” Deven lifted her hands feebly before letting them fall at her sides. “It may. Deuce may have stolen the money.”

Another pause. “Deuce.” It was said more like a statement, then a question. Like are you sure you’re saying the right person kind of inflection.

Deven shifted uncomfortably under her intense stare. “I don’t know. He’s into that kind of stuff so it’s not far-fetched.” In actuality, she didn’t know what kind of stuff Deuce was into. She and Paul were too preoccupied to discuss the email from his friend about his discovery. But after their chance meeting with the man, Deven stood firm on that belief. He was into some shit. And whether her sister was his accomplice, his pawn, or his hostage, Deven knew he was pulling the strings in their whole operation, whatever that was. This break-in and the note he left behind proved that more than anything.

“These are some pretty strong accusations,” McKinney said, finally. “But in light of this”—she held up the note between her index and middle finger—“I’m going to have to look into this Deuce person. Do you have a real name?”

Deven looked to Paul, surprised when he shook his head. “No,” he said. “We don’t.” She started to object, but something told her to keep quiet.

McKinney held his gaze for an extra few minutes before she brushed past him and headed to the front door. “I’ll look into it,” she said. “In the meantime, do you feel safe here? Is there somewhere you can go until we find this man?”

“I’ll be fine,” Deven said, though she didn’t know how true that was. She would probably have to do like her sister did and call Benji to install some cameras.

McKinney nodded. “You two take care,” she said. “We’ll be in touch.” And with that, she was gone.

Deven closed the door behind her and looked to the window, satisfied when she saw the officer’s silhouette disappear down the stairs. She turned to Paul. “Why didn’t you tell her the information you found out about Deuce?”