turned to look at her. “She’s not in there. She’s gone. There were no shadows. Lights on. Lights off. Windows misted over, but no shadows. That was a mistake. She’s not in there.”
“We’ve been here the entire time. She didn’t get in the car with Josefa and her car is right there, sitting in front of her house, Absinthe,” Lana pointed out.
“You think she’s in there?” he demanded.
She started to open her mouth and then closed it. She sighed. “Damn it, Absinthe. She has to be in there. We’re both right here. Where else could she be? She’s not in the car with Josefa, that’s for certain. Do you think she went out a back door and we didn’t catch that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going in.”
She caught his arm as he unfolded his long frame. “If she’s in there, you’re blowing your chances for good. She won’t forgive you.”
“She isn’t in that house.” He knew it with absolute certainty. “You flash me if you see anything that leads you to believe she’s coming back.”
“Like that’s going to happen when I didn’t see her leave in the first place,” Lana said. “Let me get the rifle from the car.”
“I’ve got to work my way down to the house. Don’t want to leave traces just in case she gets suspicious and looks up this way. Have to be careful. You have time.”
He didn’t waste time because he had no idea what Scarlet was up to and didn’t know how long she would be gone. He made it as fast as he could, being as careful as he could not to leave behind evidence of his presence. Going back, he would have to erase his boot prints with a branch, but right now, he was going to have to hurry.
He walked around the house first. It was on the smaller side. No cameras hidden under eaves. None on the porch or up by the door. She had two exits. A front and back door. Both were locked, and the locks were new and very good. Clearly, these weren’t the landlord’s.
The deadbolts were new installs and really good ones. She knew what she was doing. He checked for small threads in the doorway that would let her know someone had breached her security. There were none. Shaking his head, he went through the front door. He was careful to move silently, just in case he was wrong, but he knew the moment he stepped inside that she was gone.
The entire house smelled like her. Every breath he drew, he took that scent deep into his lungs. He looked around the living room. There were no photographs or artwork on the walls. There was no television. Very little furniture. She had two chairs and a lamp. That was it. He moved stealthily into the bedroom, careful not to disturb anything.
It was the same in that room. Not one thing on the walls. She had blankets on the bed, and this time, on a small, scratched-up end table that had seen better days, under a lamp, was a photograph in a beautiful silver frame of a girl that at first he thought was her, but when she was younger. In her teens. He realized when he studied it under his penlight that it had to be a sibling.
He looked around the bathroom. Again, a very sparse setup. Everything could be dumped or picked up in one minute and run with. He spent the next forty minutes going through Scarlet’s house. Closets were mostly empty. Drawers were as well. She lived as if she could pick up and go at any moment.
He made his way back to Lana, taking his time to brush out the distinctive prints of his motorcycle boots with a branch laden with leaves. Scarlet was far too careful not to notice prints around her house in the light of day. He knew he hadn’t made any mistakes, he was too experienced, but just the idea that she was so good that she’d managed to elude both members of Torpedo Ink bothered him.
“She wasn’t there,” he greeted.
“No shit,” Lana said. “I guessed that since you didn’t come back and I didn’t hear gunshots. Did you figure out how she got out of the house? If she went out the back door, wouldn’t we have seen her making her way to either road?”
“I don’t know what to think. She’s a pro, Lana. You should see that place. She can be gone in seconds. Found