reach. I might threaten Emma with sharing her with the guys to keep her in line, and I might fantasize about it, but as much as it pisses me off, the thought of sharing her with anyone boils my blood.
“Killjoy.” Striker laughs, returning to Rat’s side.
I snort and start the video over.
Striker adjusts his junk, shooting me a mutinous look. “Fuck, this is boring, Rat. How do you stand this shit?”
“Surveillance is a dead boring job.” Rat shrugs, watching the boarding house. “I like it. Leaves lots of time to think about other things.”
There’s a hunger in his voice that makes me wonder if I want to know what he thinks about when he’s on stakeouts.
“Like what?” Striker asks, taking a pull from his water bottle. “Being whipped by Wonder Woman and her lasso?”
“Hell yeah. You know me too well.”
All of us laugh.
“Hey, are you three paying attention up there?” Reaper calls from downstairs. “There’s an SUV pulling up the street.”
I pause the video and go to the window. Reaper’s right, there’s a black SUV crawling up the road. I hold my breath, waiting for it to pull into this house’s driveway, but the vehicle keeps going to the end of the street.
“It’s stopping at Rosie’s,” I say as it pulls into the drive and up to the side of the house. “Give me those.” I hold out my hand to Rat, and he passes me his binoculars. I press them to my eyes.
All of us wait and watch in silence.
A bulky man in a dark suit and sunglasses gets out and walks around to the back of the house, out of sight. A few minutes pass, and then he comes back out with the girl. Without the binoculars, I wouldn’t have been able to tell, but with them, I can tell he’s holding her elbow, keeping her close to his side. Her head is down, her long hair hiding her face as she shuffles along.
“Where the fuck do you suppose they’re going?” Striker murmurs.
The guy opens the door and pushes her into the passenger side before he climbs in behind the wheel.
The vehicle starts up and then pulls backward out of the driveway.
“Reaper, get your ass out there and follow them,” I yell.
“Done.”
I hear footsteps go into the kitchen. The side door opens, and a minute later, a bike starts up. Then Reaper rides slowly down the street, keeping a distance from the SUV as it turns onto the main road. Reaper trails behind the SUV until they both disappear from view.
“All right, guys. Let’s go see if anyone’s home.” I shoulder my bag along with the others and we head downstairs.
A few minutes later, we’ve crept up to the boarding house, leaving our bikes behind. After a quick look around, when we don’t see anyone inside, Striker picks the lock on the door, and Rat goes in, quickly disarming the alarm.
Once we’re inside, he closes the door.
The house is quiet. There doesn’t seem to be anyone there, but we’re not taking chances. We split up, Rat checking the upstairs, Striker and me checking the main floor.
We meet in a huge sitting room in the middle of the house, all of us confirming that the place is empty.
“I don’t get it,” Striker says, scratching his chin. “There’s no one home. What the fuck was that girl so afraid of when there’s no one here?”
“No clue,” I say, “but something was off.”
Besides, I know there didn’t have to be anyone with her for her to be terrified. She could have been expecting whomever she’s afraid of to come home and see her talking to us. If her situation was anything like my mom’s, saying boo to us would carry a price heavy enough to explain her fear.
“Any of you find anything odd?” I add.
“Nothing,” Striker says, and Rat shakes his head. “Everything looks fucking normal.”
I nod and scan the sitting room. Normal.
Polished furniture sits around a fireplace, photos sitting on the mantle and side tables. A cabinet stands in one corner displaying fancy dishes that probably no one would dare touch, much less eat on. A grand piano sits near the large bay window, but I wonder if it’s ever been played. There’s not a cobweb anywhere, and not a fucking speck of dust on any surface. It takes me a second to realize why this place unsettles me. It looks more like a goddamned museum, as if time has stopped, preserving this woman’s life in freeze-frame. It’s too damned