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She reflected on another course she’d taken through the State Police: a water safety rescue seminar. It had been held at a lake just like this and though she’d done the exercise-swimming underwater to rescue a “drowning” dummy in a sunken boat-she’d hated the experience.
She now sca
For intruders too.
There was still enough light to navigate by and she shut the lights out so as not to a
She passed the first two houses on the private road. They were dark and set at the end of long driveways winding through the woods. Large structures-four, five bedrooms-they were old, impressive, somber. There was a bleakness about the properties. Like sets in the opening scene of a family drama: the homestead boarded up, the story to be told in flashbacks to happier days.
Bry
As the Honda crawled along, she passed a small bald patch between copses of fir, spruce and more hemlock, giving her a partial view of the house at number 3-the Feldmans’-ahead and to her left. It was grander than the others, though of the same style. Smoke trailed from the chimney. The windows were mostly dark, though she could see a glow behind shades or curtains in the back and on the second floor.
She drove on toward the house and it was lost to sight behind a large copse of pine. Her hand reached down and for reassurance tapped the grip of her Glock, not a superstitious gesture, but one she’d learned long ago: you had to know the exact position of your weapon in case you needed to draw it fast. Bry
Tom Dahl wanted his deputies on the range for a checkup once a month but Bry
She’d had to cancel her session last week because of another incident with Joey-a fight at school-but the next morning she’d made her range time of 6 A.M. and, upset about her son, had run through two boxes of fifty rounds. Her wrist had ached from the excess for the rest of the day.
Bry
She was reaching for her phone, in the cup holder, to shut the ringer off before approaching the crime scene, when it trilled. A glance at caller ID. “Tom.”
“Look, Bry
“Doesn’t sound good. What? Tell me.”
He sighed. She was irritated he was delaying, though a lot more irritated at the news she knew was coming.
“I’m sorry, Bry
Oh, damn…“Tell me.”
“Feldman called back. The husband.”
“Called back?”
“Com Central called me. Feldman said he’s got nine-one-one on speed dial. Hit it by mistake. Hung up as soon as he realized it. Didn’t think it’d gone through.”
“Oh, Tom.” Grimacing, she stared at thrushes picking at the ground beside a wood lily.
“I know, I know.”
“I’m practically there. I can see the house.”
“You moved fast.”
“Well, it was a nine-one-one, remember.”
“I’m giving you a whole day off.”
And when would she have time for that? She exhaled long. “At least you’re buying me di
“Not a single bit of problem. Enjoy it.”
“’Night, Tom.”
Bry
Your poker game?
It’ll keep…
Thinking of the false alarm, though, Bry
She also had to admit that she wouldn’t mind a bit of a break from evenings with A
They’d never fought. A
Now divorced and with a man whom Bry
Perfectly fine for relations living apart. But when A
Oh, yes, she was looking forward to a few hours of evening time to herself.
And a free di
Bry
The Feldmans were behind this mixup; the least they could do was let her use their bathroom. Bry
SQUATTING NEXT TO the stolen Ford they’d driven here from Milwaukee, Lewis sucked blood off the knuckle he’d gigged on the sheet metal trying to repair one or both of the flats. He examined the wound and spat.
Great, Hart thought. Fingerprints and DNA.
And here I’m the one picked this guy to tag along tonight.
“Any sign of her?” the ski
Hart crunched over leaves, returning from making a circuit of the property. As he’d searched for Michelle, being as quiet as he could, he’d had the queasy sense of being targeted. Maybe she was gone. Maybe she wasn’t.
“Ground’s plenty muddy. I found some footprints, probably hers, going toward the county road at first but they seemed to turn that way.” He pointed to the dense woods and steep hillside behind the house. “She’s gotta be hiding there someplace. You hear anything?”