Cut and Run (Lucy Kincaid #16) - Allison Brennan Page 0,33

had to commit a small crime.

She couldn’t do it. While she could talk her way out of trespassing, breaking and entering would be harder. She’d find a way to get inside if she needed to, but not when it was close to midnight. Maybe a welfare check. Rogan had friends in SAPD, he could convince someone to come by.

Resolved, she walked back through the gate just as a flash of light turned down the driveway.

Well, dammit. Her gut had been off and Marie had been out late with her kids.

The lights flicked off, but the car remained idling.

No voices. No kids. No tired mom. A car door opened, the dome light shining in the dark.

Max stayed close to the gate. She didn’t dare move. She stood flat against the house, her low-heeled boots sinking into the mulch, a bush under the laundry room window partly shielding her. If she stepped forward she might be seen—would definitely be seen when the headlights went on.

The door didn’t close at first. The car hummed. She really wanted to look, see if there was a license plate, but she didn’t know if someone was in the car or if it was even Marie Richards.

She had a strong feeling it wasn’t.

Two minutes after the car pulled in, the car door shut. She heard the car slip into reverse at the same time the lights came on.

She held her breath.

The car didn’t move.

Had they seen her? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t be certain. Who was it? It certainly wasn’t Marie.

Was this some sort of setup? Max couldn’t imagine why Grant would set her up, but she supposed he might not want her investigating his case. Maybe there was something he wanted to hide. Yet— She had made no indication to Grant’s attorney that she would visit Marie tonight. And why say he’d talk to her at all if he didn’t want to? She couldn’t force him to meet with her.

After what seemed like forever but was less than two minutes, the car backed out and drove off.

Max waited a full minute before leaving her hiding spot. She walked briskly down the driveway intending to make a beeline for her car; instead, she looked at the front of the house.

The intruder hadn’t gone in, otherwise she would have heard him entering. He’d been out of the car less than a minute—spent more time sitting in the car after returning. He hadn’t knocked on the door or rung the bell—she would have heard that as well. So what had he been doing on the front porch?

Though there was a mailbox mounted under the numbers of the house, there was also an old-fashioned mail slot in the door. Very common with older homes, and the mail slot was no longer used. She first looked in the mailbox—there was mail. Today was Monday, and Marie hadn’t picked up her mail. Max looked through it—all junk mail, except for two postcards dated late last week with pictures of the Gulf, one addressed to Jason Richards, the other addressed to Kyle Richards, and signed Dad. Each card had the same message:

Great news! My boss invited us to sit in his box for Astros opening day. Mom can come, too, if she wants. Plenty of room.

To Jason he added:

Mom said you want to start baseball in the spring. I’ll be back for six whole weeks starting Thanksgiving morning and we’ll practice every day. Miss you.

To Kyle he added:

Mom said you got straight Excellent marks on your report card except for talking. Ha-ha. That’s great, kid!

Max put the cards and junk mail back. Definitely not a family torn apart after the divorce. Sounded like Marie talked to her ex regularly and he was involved in the kids’ lives. Why the divorce?

What did it matter? People had reasons for their decisions. She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.

She was just curious.

Had the kids gone to school today? Had Marie gone to work? That might be something she could get if she was sneaky about it, or maybe Rogan had an easier way. Schools were tight-lipped about the privacy of students and teachers.

Because she still wore her gloves she opened the screen and peered through the mail slot. Cautiously. She didn’t know what the stranger was doing here—maybe he’d just checked the mail like she had, determined that Marie hadn’t come home. Then he would know the kids’ names, if he didn’t know them before.

There was a sheet of paper on the floor right

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