Wilderness

"Nice-looking house," Hood said.

"No land, though," Newman said. "Right up against the neighbors."

"Yeah, you could reach out your window and into theirs."

"No place to sneak around and shoot through the windows."

"Even if there were," Hood said, "the damned blinds are closed. You couldn't see what to shoot at."

It was a bright summer day, but not hot. The wind off the ocean was steady and pleasant. Newman felt strong. He was conscious of the thickness of his arms and chest, the resiliency of his legs, the small, good weight of the gun under his shirt. He realized he wasn't afraid.

On the prowl, he thought. That's what makes the difference. I'm not slinking around scared, wondering what he's going to do. I'm after him. He should be scared. "Ru

Hood said, "What?" "It's ru

"Yeah," Hood said. He was looking at Karl's house. "There's no damned cover," he said. "No buildings we could get in and shoot from, no place where we could be under cover and wait. We could shoot from the car, but it's difficult driving and hard to get out of here. Traffic's bad. There's a cop up there on the corner. Probably usually is." "The gun helps, too," Newman said.

"Helps what?" Hood said.

"Not being scared. The gun makes you feel good. Like you can't be overpowered."

"I wouldn't count on can't," Hood said. "The gun makes it harder, but it doesn't make you bulletproof, you know?"

Newman nodded. "What do we do now?" he said.

"I figure we watch," Hood said. "We get a feel for how this guy functions. See if he goes to work or something. Get him outside the house we may have a better chance."

"We could go right up and knock on the door and when someone opened it in we go with the guns." As he said it, Newman hoped Hood would disapprove. Newman didn't like the idea as he said it.

"Some things wrong with that, Aaron. We don't know who or what's in there. Guy like Karl may have some bodyguards. Also if there were other people there besides Karl, like his wife or kids or whatever, we'd probably have to kill them, or they'd be able to identify us to the cops, or Karl's friends or whoever. Besides, a guy like Karl probably doesn't just open the door when someone knocks. Even if we didn't get hurt, if we tried it and didn't get in, we'd make him suspicious. We don't want him suspicious." "That's for sure," Newman said.

"We'll split it up," Hood said. "I'll be in the car up the road. If Karl comes out and gets in the car, you turn and look out to sea. I'll come down and pick you up."

"Okay. And if no one goes anyplace?"

"Come supper time we go home," Hood said. "What else can we do."

"And come back tomorrow?"

"And come back tomorrow," Hood said. "Unless you get bored and want to quit."

"I won't quit," Newman said. "Besides, as long as I'm watching him I know he's not after me."

Hood nodded and walked up the street to where the car was parked.

CHAPTER 9.

At seven-twenty in the evening, Newman walked up along the seawall and got into Hood's car, parked on the street in front of the drugstore.

"That's it," he said. "If I stand there another five minutes my toenails will fall off."

Hood started the Bronco and they drove back past Karl's house. It was as impervious and blank as it had been since they arrived.

"Well, the first day wasn't too thrilling," Newman said.

"One day it will be," Hood said. "Things take time. You gotta be careful, and watch, and work out what you're going to do, and know what you're up against. Takes time."

"Umm."

At eight they pulled into Newman's driveway. Janet's maroon MG was there with the top up. "Never mess the hair," Newman said.

Hood smiled. The house seemed quiet. Newman felt the threat of its silence.

"Come on in for a beer," he said to Hood.

"Sure."

They got out of the car and Newman put his hand on the butt of the gun under his shirt. Janet appeared in the doorway. Newman moved his hand away.

"Where've you been," she said. "I was getting worried." Newman smiled. "I'll tell you, when we get in. Come on, Chris."

They sat at the kitchen table and Newman got two beers from the refrigerator.

"I'll have a little wine, Aaron," Janet said. He poured her a glass of white wine.

"You hungry?" Newman said to Hood.

"For sure," Hood said.

"There's steaks in the freezer. You want one, Jan?"

"Yes, I'd love one. A small one, maybe half."

"Yeah, you got a real fat problem," Newman said. He drank half the beer at one pull on the can.

"Well, what have you guys been doing?" Janet said.

Newman put the three steaks, still frozen, in a fry pan on the stove and turned the gas on medium. He drank the other half of the beer and felt it move through him like sap through a tree. He gri

"We been stalking our quarry," he said. He opened his shirt so that Janet could see the nickel-plated.32 revolver at his belt.

"Jesus Christ," she said. "Is that a real gun?"

Newman opened another beer. He held one toward Hood. Hood shook his head. "Yes, m'am," Newman said, "it's real. And we have been circling in on old Adolph Karl."

The steaks began to sizzle in the pan.

"Well tell me about it. Tell me everything you've done today. Are you in on this too, Chris?"

Hood nodded. Newman began to slice mushrooms into the pan with the steaks. "We found out where he lived," Newman said, "and we went and looked it over. We figure we can't get him there so we're waiting to see if he goes out, or goes to work or something like that. We need to get a place where we can hit him and get away clean. It may take some time."

Janet Newman smiled and raised her glass. "Okay," she said. "Home from the hill is the hunter." Newman smiled back at her. Hood sipped his beer. Newman turned the steaks in the pan with a pair of tongs.

"How long do you think it will take," Janet said.

Hood shrugged. Newman said, "No way to tell. We'll just have to stay on him and see." He drank more beer and got another can. This time Hood had some too. Janet had another glass of wine. As he cooked, Newman could feel the swell of his biceps tightening his shirt as he bent his arm to move the mushrooms around in the pan. Janet set the table and put a plate of rolls out. Newman put the steaks on each of three plates. His movements seemed precise to him. Controlled. He added steak sauce to the mushrooms and let the sauce cook down a moment in the pan. Then he spooned a serving onto each plate with a spatula.

He spilled none. Good at what I do, he thought.

As they ate, Newman talked. "We watched that god damned house all day," he said. "All goddamned day, and nobody stirred."

"Will you go back tomorrow?" Janet said.

"Yeah. He's gotta come out sometime."

"What about your writing?"

"Priorities, lovey. I keep telling you there's got to be priorities.

This is life and death. That's number one." The beer was very cold and tingled in his throat as he drank.

"What made you decide to do it?" Janet said.

"It has to be done," Newman said. "And the… the what… the insult of it all has to be wiped away. I can't stand to be cowed by those bastards. It's the insult. I just can't accept it."

"Well, I think it's a good decision, whatever reason. I'm proud of you both." "Wait'll we do it, Janet," Hood said. "We botch it and you won't be proud of us."

"I don't like to think about that," Janet said.

"Well, it's a risk," Hood said, "you have to face that." "We won't botch it," Newman said. "We must be as smart as these bastards."

"But it isn't just smart," Hood said, "it's also mean. Are you as mean as those bastards?"