Kate plugged the address into her phones GPS app as she got to her feet and instantly started for the door. Thank you for your help, she told both of the men still standing in the records room.

Need any assistance? Rothbridge asked.

I dont think so, she said.

Though, given the way the morning had gone so far, she wasnt so sure what the remainder of the day had in store.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The Crabtree residence was located down a two-lane road that was bordered on both sides by towering oaks. The late morning sun pouring through, filtered through the branches and leaves, was quite beautiful. Their driveway was directly off of the road; several yards ahead, Kate could see a turn-off for the apparently now-defunct Sparrow Road.

When she pulled into the driveway, Kate parked behind one of the two vehicles already parked there: one older beat-up car and a pickup truck that, while reasonably new, had taken a beating. Kate and DeMarco walked across the yard, the quiet southern morning like some sweet music ushering them along.

Kate knocked on the door twice before it was answered. From the first knock to the moment the door was opened, roughly forty seconds had passed. The man who answered the door was tall, thin, and clearly annoyed to be receiving unexpected company.

Yeah? he said. Can I help you?

Their badges and IDs out, Kate and DeMarco introduced themselves. The man did a very poor job of hiding his alarm. And something about that alarmed expression also alarmed Kate. She again felt that sense of being pushed along, riding some track that had been built for her long ago, but unseen to her.

We have some questions about a family that used to live in Waynesboro, Kate said. A Pam Crabtree was listed as an emergency contact for the husbands place of employment.

The man looked trapped, like he had no idea what he should do. He opened his mouth two different times, wanting to say something but not having the words.

Does Pam Crabtree live here? she asked.

Pam! the man yelled. There are FBI agents here to talk to you.

Kate jumped at the shouting. And she couldnt help but feel as if he had taken this approach as a way to warn herto let her know that they had company that might cause them trouble. It made Kate feel like they might be hiding something.

Let em in, a womans voice replied from inside.

The man stepped aside and let them in. He was easily six inches taller than Kate; when they passed by him, he looked down on them like a man might observe a passing insect that had the potential to bite or sting. The front door led directly into a living room, where the man sat down carefully in an old recliner.

What family are you trying to learn about? he asked.