CHAPTER EIGHT
Travis Rogers lived in a townhouse not too far away from the thick traffic of a mall complex. Given that it was creeping up on lunchtime, the traffic was pretty bad as Kate neared the place. Passing a Starbucks and a Dunkin’ Donuts also made her realize that, unprofessional or not, she was going to have to stop for coffee after they questioned Travis Rogers or she might very well fall asleep on the job.
She soldiered through and parked in front of the townhouse about forty minutes after leaving Biltmore Threads. She and DeMarco hustled up to the front door, neither of them having much hope that a man in his thirties would be at home in the middle of the day—especially not one who would likely be searching for a job.
So they were both surprised when the door was answered by
