The driver’s-side door opened, and a figure emerged from the car. Dark suit jacket…dark hair.
The FBI agent.
What was his name?
Cummings. Special Agent Jarrod Cummings.
She was supposed to call him about an appointment today. Apparently he had grown impatient and decided to just show up. Or maybe Shelton had given him a heads-up about the latest developments in the Devers saga.
Perfect. Just what she needed. She suddenly felt utterly weary.
Ben was already halfway up her sidewalk by the time the agent opened her gate.
As Ben stepped up onto her porch, he asked her, “The FBI agent, right?”
She nodded. “He was supposed to wait for my call.”
Ben glanced at her. “They can be pushy sometimes.”
Just her luck.
As he had yesterday, Agent Cummings wore a dark suit that looked slightly rumpled. He was clean-shaven this time, though his hair looked a little tousled. Weren’t federal agents supposed to be known for their pristine attire and presentation? Evidently not this one.
“Ms. Devers,” the agent said as he approached her steps. He glanced at Ben and gave him a subtle nod.
“I planned to call you,” Brenda explained, “but we’ve had a rough night around here, so I haven’t gotten around to it.”
“The break-in,” he said as he stepped up first one, then the next step.
So he had heard. Shelton must want to be rid of this case if he was in such a hurry to pass along the latest updates to a federal agent.
“Yes. It was quite an ordeal.”
He glanced at Ben once more before settling his gaze back on her. “If you’re available now, I would like to get started with our interview.”
Why put it off? “Sure. We can talk now.”
The agent’s gaze settled on Ben yet again. “The neighbor,” he said. “Ben, isn’t it?”
Ben thrust out his hand. “Ben Clark.”
Cummings shook the extended hand. Brenda didn’t bother to ask how he knew Ben’s name or that he was her neighbor.
Before the agent could suggest otherwise, Brenda announced, “I would like Ben to sit in on the interview.”
“Are you an attorney, Mr. Clark?” Cummings asked.
Ben smiled. “No. Just a friend.”
“Do you know Mr. Devers?” the man prodded.
“No,” Brenda interjected. The question infuriated her because she understood what the agent was getting at. “Ben is new to the neighborhood. Scott was already dead—missing—when he moved in next door.”
Cummings bobbed his head in a noncommittal nod that blatantly declared he didn’t believe her. “Very well, shall we get started?”
Brenda turned her back on him and walked into her house. Cummings came in behind her and Ben right after him. She settled on the sofa and let the two men sit where they would. She was too tired and too angry to summon any manners.
“Your husband,” Cummings began.