Page 75 of Wild Oblivion

"When did yousell it?" I asked.

"A few years back, when Giselle insisted I get full-time care. This is all her fault. I didn't need assistance. I was doing just fine."

"You’re sure that's where it is.”

His brow remained wrinkled. "Yes. Do I need to repeat myself?"

"What's the address of your old home?”

“876 Willow Bend Way.”

"You're sure about that?" I said.

"I lived there for damn near 40 years. I should know my own address.”

I shared a look with Jack.

It was late, but time was of the essence. We gathered our things, called for a ride share, then helped Henrik out to the parking lot.

By the time we got there, a black Lincoln Navigator had pulled in. The SUV drove around by the dock, and we climbed inside. We slid into the cushy leather seats, and Clarence zipped us over to Willow Bend.

He took one look at us in the rearview and changed the station from rap to yacht rock.

We pulled to the curb in the upscale neighborhood in front of the two-story French colonial with dove-gray siding, Arctic white trim, square columns, and a large veranda. A white picket fence surrounded the yard, and tall palm trees swayed in the breeze. A colorful flower garden looked well-tended.

We climbed out of the SUV and stood in front of the home, surveying the grounds. There weren't any lights on. It was a little after 11:00 PM, and I figured everyone was asleep.

The Navigator drove off.

"What's the game plan?" JD asked.

"We’re going to knock on the door and tell them we need to dig a hole in the backyard.”

"A gas leak,” JD suggested. "Fiber-optic cables. Sewer line.”

"That's great, but we’re not with the gas company, the phone company, or public works."

"Preliminary investigation.” He paused. "We could always tell them we suspect there's a dead body buried back there by the previous tenant.”

I gave him a look.

Jack shrugged. "What?"

"This ain't my house," Henrik said.

We both looked at him with confused faces.

"This is 876 Willow Bend Way,” I said.

"It might be 876 Willow Bend, but that ain’t my house,” he said, pointing a craggy finger.

The house looked like a new build. "You said you sold it three years ago?"

"Yes.”

"So they tore down the house and rebuilt?" Jack said. "Thecrystal is still probably buried in the ground in the backyard."

I took a deep breath. "Let's go see what they have to say."