boring to warrant any sort of attention even from your nosiest neighbor.
Those grocery bags you’re hauling in?
They’d never have bricks of C-4 in them.
That repair man out to fix your air-conditioner or plumbing?
He couldn’t possibly be doing a drop of clean phones or tablets.
Don’t even look twice at the pool guy.
What would ever make you think he’s handling some chemical that isn’t chlorine or throwing out more than dead leaves?
Nothing.
It’s a brilliant fucking system.
The front door cracks open just enough for me to jovially greet the tanned face peering around it. “Cheyenne! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you face to face since college graduation!”
Having presented one of the approved code phrases causes her to step back to grant us access inside. “Come in! Come in! You know I’ve been waiting for you to finally visit me.”
We casually enter the home, yet the instant the door shuts, Blake makes a tisking sound I am becoming all too acquainted with. “While I commend you for the color pallet choices – main neutral tones with non-abrasive accents though everything screams too retro for me to personally feel comfortable – the lack of definitive décor on top of the absence of photos does raise numerous red flags to even the most absentminded housewife.” Her frame comes to a stop at the end of the hallway near the open living room and kitchen while our host braces her back against the nearest counter space. “Leaving the paper pictures that they put in the frames would raise questions to those who for some reason managed to wander in here – especially when you consider the material those things are often printed on – but you could get a digital frame and have the tech department alter you a set of stock photos that resemble you to strengthen the appearance of this being a home where a non-memorable, mindless drone resides versus someone who might start to look suspicious after one too many episodes of a crime television shows such as Criminal Minds, which makes me raise my eyebrows because we all know federal agents don’t look that level of attractive in real life. I get wanting us to suspend reality – something we already do so much of when watching episodes of that and most television really – but how about someone a lot less attractive than all of them?”
Cheyenne folds her arms across her salmon color button-down blouse and hits me with a quirked eyebrow. “Rookie?”
“Those back windows aren’t reinforced, are they?” Our gazes swing to where Blake is observantly judging the space on the opposite side of the room. “They should be. Laminated glass would be the better choice. It might raise some skeptical glances from neighbors, but once you toss out a bogus news report about an increase in burglaries in this area of the state, they’d back off. The glass itself would be a great extra measure of security, although I will admit, from first glance, this place does have very few weak spots. That’s quite commendable.”
Cheyenne’s curious stare falls back to me, which is when I simply retort, “Client.”
Disbelief darts onto her expression, but she doesn’t dispute it. “Must be five-star if you brought her here.”
“Think…ten.”
Her jaw tips downward in another wave of shock.
If five-star is as high as we go, then I believe it’s safe to label a woman – that’s related to one of the higher-ups we work for – that the world isn’t really supposed to know is in danger would warrant her twice the normal rating.
“We need the full wash and dry service.”
Cheyenne nods her acknowledgment prior to strolling out of the space we’re in. “This way.”
I politely nudge Blake to cease her over-analyzing of the room and follow the platinum blonde who’s on the move. Our short relocation around the corner ends with us entering the master bedroom.
Just like before, my beautiful target begins dissecting everything in view, which is something that instinctively has me smiling wildly.
It’s insane how her mind works. The speed. The determination. The intensity. It’s like popping open an antique pocket watch and being exposed firsthand to the advanced mechanisms buried inside. Tiny pieces you know better than to touch yet can’t control the urges to do just that. Seeing the gears turn and twist and tick all the while knowing that each one is so fragile and so crucial that one wrong move and you may destroy something so incredible.
And just like that delicate design, Blake seems to always be