The GPS guided her to a historic side of town. A labyrinth of quaint streets with Victorian-style homes in majestic architecture flanked both sides, elevating the Old Town character. Sweeping branches of tulip trees reached up and over the roads, almost like archways in the neighborhood, large enough for only the sunlight to infiltrate and cascade silhouettes to dance across the pavement. It was definitely a New Jersey hidden gem that spoke of old money and generational wealth. It reminded Deven of the type of place her parents would’ve eventually retired to welcome grandbabies. Yet something else that would never happen.

Slowing her car to a crawl, Deven’s eyes glazed over the residential numbers inscribed on the mailboxes. 1426 was positioned on a corner lot with a wrought-iron fence and painted in various monochromatic shades of blue to embellish its architectural detail. A pearl white Mercedes was parked in the driveway with a KBABY3 license plate.

Deven was tempted to pull into the driveway right alongside KBABY3, but at the last minute, she drove on by, her eyes staying fixed on the house. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing too suspicious, nothing to otherwise suggest this was the humble abode of a drug dealer’s ex-girlfriend, that had apparently, gotten her life together since he went to prison. So far, Erika Garrett was seeming like yet another dead end. Which made it all the more suspicious that Keith would insist otherwise.

Deven wheeled through a cul-de-sac and back around to the house to park on the opposite side of the road. Again, she surveyed the home with its manicured lawn and gabled roof, not really sure what she was looking for.

Before she had made a decision on what to do, the front door opened and a woman, who Deven could only assume was Erika, stepped out onto the wraparound porch. Even from this distance, Deven could see she was petite and wore braids in a bun coiled at the top of her head. She was dressed casually in some jeans and a long coat that swept her calves as she twisted, first to lock the door, then to trot down the three steps onto the walkway that wound towards her car. A large Louis Vuitton purse swayed from the crook of her elbow and when she looked up, most of her face was hidden from view due to the oversized aviator sunglasses perched on her nose.

Deven watched her climb into her car and peel out of the driveway. She had to make a split-second decision. Either stay behind and wait, maybe even try to take a look around the house while she was gone. Or follow and see where she was headed. Deven glanced back at the house before pulling away from the curb to dart out behind the Mercedes. It seemed like the safer of the two options.