“Yes, ma’am.” Henning held up his FBI badge.

“Lemme see your gun too. All you FBI guys carry guns, right?”

“That’s affirmative, ma’am.” Henning pulled his Windbreaker open.

“Okay, just a sec.”

They listened to the deadbolt click back and the slide chain being removed from its slot. The door opened and the smell of cinnamon greeted them.

Gun drawn, Henning rushed into the room and pivoted to the right.

“Hey,” the girl protested. “What the hell y’all doing?”

Nathan dashed into the kitchen and checked behind the counter. “Clear.”

Henning checked the bathroom, a hall closet, and both bedrooms. “Clear,” he called and returned to the living room. “I’m sorry for doing that, ma’am, but we had to be sure you weren’t being held against your will. We’re looking for a very dangerous man.”

“You could’ve just asked me.”

Both thinking the same thing, Nathan and Henning exchanged a glance.

“I apologize again, ma’am,” offered Henning.

Nathan surveyed his surroundings. Although the living room wasn’t a complete mess, it could’ve been neater. Some clothes were strewn on the furniture here and there, and a few dishes were out of place, but overall, it looked reasonably presentable. Nathan watched her freeze when she took in his face.

“What the hell happened to you?” she asked.

Nothing like a little tact, he thought. “Industrial accident.”

She whipped her waist-length hair to the side. Along with the tank top, she wore blue jeans—tight in all the wrong places—and fuzzy pink slippers. Her ankles were swollen. She introduced herself as Janey “not Jane” Sheldon.

Henning asked if her mother was expected anytime soon.

“No, and I don’t know where she is.”

He didn’t ask you that, Nathan thought.

“Does she have a cell phone?”

“Hardly, we can barely pay the rent around here. They just raised it on us by fifty bucks.”

“We really need to talk with her.”

Janey’s face clouded. “She’s a good mom and all, but she’s got a problem, you know… With drinking.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there some place she goes regularly?”

She cocked her head, “Probably, but it isn’t around here. I’ve already looked in all the close places.”

Nathan watched her body language closely as Henning continued. “Has anyone called her lately?”

“You mean that dangerous man you mentioned?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I can’t say it was him for sure, but she did get a call the other night. She was upset afterward, got really drunk, and passed out on the floor right about where you’re standing.”

“Did you hear any of the call?”

“Not really, I was watchin’ American Idol.”

Nathan took a closer look at Janey’s eyes. Piecing pale blue. He ran the calculation of her age through his head.

“What time does she go to work?”

“Eight at night. She works the graveyard shift.”