“God, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Tean said.“We should let Agent Trevino know about this.”
“Sure, give her a call.”And then Jem dropped his foot on the gas.“If she’s lucky, she can meet us there.”
34
The house was a ranch with brown clapboard siding and white shutters, set on a worn asphalt road on the edge of Draper.It needed a fresh coat of paint, and the walk to the front door was cracked and sunken.Winter-dry weeds grew up along the base of the garage door, flattened where someone had driven over them recently.Two big trees stood at the sidewalk, branches bare, and leaves filled the flower beds and covered the lawn.The windows were dark.The driveway was empty.
“If he’s here, he’s parked in the garage,” Jem said.
Tean nodded.
“Why don’t you stay out here?”Jem said.“I’ll take a quick look.You wait for Trevino and tell her not to shoot me.”
Tean swallowed.He patted himself down: glasses, wallet, phone, even the cargo pockets on his khakis.Everything still there.Everything ready.He had tried, this time, to come prepared.Then he shook his head.
“If he’s in there, I promise—”
“No.”Tean must have worked to soften the edge in his voice before he said again, “No.”
“We’re going to walk around the place first,” Jem said.“Get a good look.Then we’ll decide what we’re going to do.”
Tean nodded.
“Stay behind me,” Jem said.“Not too close.He’s fast.”
Tean nodded again.
Jem opened the door, and they got out.As they made their way up the lawn, leaves snapping and crinkling underfoot, he loosened the paracord around his wrist, transforming the bracelet into a long loop.The hex nut at the end swung with every step, thumping against his thigh.
They started on the right side of the house and passed an ancient AC unit.There was only a single window, small and high—probably a bathroom.A few scrubby bushes were planted along the foundation, and when the wind picked up again, they made scratching sounds against the siding.
More leaves covered the backyard—a thick drift, with a clear track running through it.Someone—or maybe more than one person—had entered the yard from the lot behind it, walked through the leaves without any attempt to hide the fact that they’d come this way, and headed straight for the house.
There were two windows on the back of the house: one set a little higher, which Jem guessed was above the kitchen sink, and the other larger, at the other end of the structure, probably the living room or a bedroom.A sliding glass door caught the light and acted like a mirror, so that Jem couldn’t make out what was on the other side.Kitchen, he guessed.Or a breakfast nook.Something like that.A small patio extended from the slider, with a few wrought-iron pieces of patio furniture that had been spray-painted white once and had left rusted orange trails across the concrete.
Jem eased his weight forward.
Inside the house, a man said, “Do it!”
It wasn’t a shout.Not exactly.But itwasloud.Forceful.Commanding.Someone who expected to be obeyed—and someone who wasn’t happy.
Without even looking at Tean, Jem felt him tense.
“Because I said so!”
The same voice.A man.It sounded familiar, but not enough that Jem could place it.Had he heard Zeb talk?Yes, he’d said something to Katie.But this wasn’t Zeb, or at least, that wasn’t the voice Jem remembered.
“Then get the fuck out of here!”
Too late, Jem realized what was happening.
The glass door slid open.A man stumbled out.
At least, Jemthoughtit was a man.
Boots.Jeans.Heavy work gloves.A man’s work shirt with a suede yoke, which meant it wasn’t really intended for working.And a wolf’s head.