Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Sixty-One: Agnes, Saturday

Agnes' phone rang, but it wasn't the normal chime she used for an incoming phone call. She drew it out of her purse just in case it was her kids or the police calling. She hoped it was either of them, just so she could have an excuse to walk away from the group that had gathered around the man who'd been in her nightmares more often than she could count. 

It was neither. It was a door chime notification from the alarm company servicing Patrick's house. There was a man's face filling the screen. He must have been at the front door and had rung the bell. That had to be the reason for the notification. She had no idea who he was, but the chime kept ringing, and people were starting to look at her.

"I need to get this," she said to no one in particular, and began walking for the winding staircase to go down. To her relief, Al and Rachel followed her, Rachel beckoning Emma to join them. She could have kissed them both for standing by her.

She pressed the button to speak to the man at her door, wondering if this was one of the men who'd killed Patrick. If he was, though, why was he showing his face? Plus, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Hello?" Agnes asked.

"Hello?" the guy asked, looking around the front porch. He couldn't tell where her voice was coming from. The front door camera must have been equipped with a hidden speaker and receiver, like an apartment building intercom, so she could see and hear him but he could only hear her.

"Who are you?" she asked as the four of them descended the stairs together. Al and Rachel were peering in on either side of her at the screen.

"It's Brandon, from last night."

"I don't know any Brandon," Agnes said. "I think you have the wrong house."

She dimly heard Rachel and Al exchanging whispers. She thought she heard them say, "It's the guy!"

"Sergeant Mara," Brandon went on, "I think we got off on the wrong foot last night. I'm sorry I left, but my car was stolen, you see, and I had to take care of that before I could do anything else, and then by the time I remembered I was having a lovely evening with you, I discovered you were gone."

"Oh, I get it now," Agnes said. "I'm not Sergeant Mara. But, wait, did she invite you to my house?"

"Your house?" Brandon asked, confused. "This isn't Joanie's house?"

"Um, no. How did you find this house? Did she give you directions?"

Before he could answer, he stood back, blinking in surprise, because the door had opened. "Oh, Joanie, hi," he said, and then the video feed ended. Perhaps the call was cut off when the door opened. 

"What the fuck?" Agnes asked, as Al and Rachel grabbed her arms and led her out of the house down a path cleared of snow. Over at the canopied area, other guests were already congregating, and wait staff were setting out bottles and glasses. "Guys," she said irritably. "What's going on? Do you know something about this?"

"You know that sting we did last night?" Al asked. "That's the guy who was chatting up Joanie; we think he was the one who made the hashtag. He left a tracking device in her purse while she was in the bathroom."

"What?!" Agnes breathed. "You knew he did it?"

"We only did because Lauren spotted him with his hand in her purse, although at first we thought he was stealing from her."

"So, Joanie must have brought the tracking device to my house, if he's there now."

"Apparently so," Rachel said. "She mentioned wanting to have a little fun with the guy last night, after she discovered the device. I hope she knows what she's doing."