could spot Sam’s truck, parked to one side of the dirt drive. There was no light in any windows, no flicker of a TV or flashlight, or even a cigarette.
“What now?” Brian asked.
“We’ll wait a bit. Maybe he’s picking someone up and they’re about to head out.” Nick kept the binoculars on the house, switching between the front door and what he could see of the backyard. After fifteen minutes without change, he lowered the glasses. “Hm. Nothing.”
“Maybe they went to bed,” Brian suggested.
“Together?” Nick raised an eyebrow. But sure, this could be his girlfriend’s place, if he had one. In the week he and Charlie had tailed the man around, they hadn’t noticed a steady girl. “If so, they sure got down to it fast. He could’ve slipped past us in another car, too, if he was quick about the switch.” Surely he hasn’t found the tracker, and been smart enough to use it instead of get rid of it? “I’m going to snoop around the back.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Better just one of us. They might have a gun, or dogs.” He could feel Brian about to protest and added, “You get into the driver’s seat, okay? If I have to cut and run, I can jump in and you can gun it. I don’t want them to get a good look at this car.”
“All right.” Brian’s tone was reluctant, but he took the keys when Nick handed them over. “You know I’m still a crappy driver.”
“You can hit the gas and pull out onto a straight road. By the time he could get into his truck, we’d be gone. It won’t be a TV car chase.”
“It better not be.”
Nick reached up and switched off the dome light before opening his door. Brian got out too, and they met up rounding the back of the car.
“Be careful,” Brian murmured.
Nick tapped him on the butt in reassurance, then headed along the verge and into the trees toward the house.
He eased down along the drive, walking close to the edge but not in the deepest shadow of the trees where he’d likely trip. The moon was a thin crescent in the sky, not much help at all. He held a tiny LED flashlight in his cupped hand, and there was just enough ambient light to manage with an occasional flash at his feet. One advantage to the city— in Minneapolis, the light-glow in the sky kept it from ever turning into this kind of black, concealing maze. Better for cops. And crooks, of course.
As he approached the house, he moved slower, waiting for any sound of a dog. Most places here had one or more, and some of them ran loose. Usually they barked first. Not always, though.
This time, there was no patter of feet, no tentative yip or growl. He moved closer to the building. Reaching it, he hugged the wall and eased his way around the outside, looking and listening intently. Along the far side, he tripped over a shovel propped unseen against the siding. It fell with a clatter.
He slammed his back up against the wall and froze, barely breathing. They wouldn’t be able to see him unless they came out. If the back door opens, I’ll run that way, dark shadows, shed for cover… Through several long minutes, he waited, heart pounding, but there was no answering sound. Not home, or dead drunk or stoned. It’d be hard for Sam to be that plastered within ten minutes of arriving. Odds were they’d gone before he ever arrived.
Nick checked the truck in case Sam was passed out in it, or dead, but it was unlocked and empty.
The back door to the house tempted him. He had things in his pockets that no fully law-abiding citizen would carry, and he’d been practicing with the lockpicks. Any skill that might make Brian safer was worth polishing up, and he was now polished.
There was a little recording device in his other pocket, too. It was amazing what you could buy online. But… this might be Sam’s girlfriend’s place, or his brother’s or something innocent. Nick didn’t want to commit felonies without more evidence. He made another circuit instead, peering in each window, but the interior was too dark to make out more than a faint glow here and there of a power indicator or digital clock.
Slow and boring it is.
He was picking out a spot to watch from when a soft sound from up the drive made him freeze. Not a