She released the air from her lungs in an equally long, slow exhale. Repeating the move, she did this two more times before she felt both physically and mentally ready for what needed to be done.
The Army wouldn’t listen when she’d gone to them with what she knew. The cop she spoke with at the nearest CPD precinct had literally rolled her eyes and handed her a form Raegan never bothered to fill out.
So now here she was, about to break into a house she suspected was the hub for some sort of terrorist activity, and if she got caught…she would be the one sitting behind bars.
Ironic as hell, eh, Chief?
With thoughts of Chief Tupper and the others driving her forward, Raegan opened the door and stepped outside. The temperature had dropped with the setting of the sun, and the night air was a comfortable cool against her face.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, the style secured beneath the ball cap she’d purchased with this mission in mind. It was plain black, just like her boots, socks, jeans, and the long-sleeved T-shirt covering her torso and arms.
The gloves Raegan wore were also black. Their purpose—to prevent DNA and fingerprint evidence from being left behind.
Just in case.
She swung her gaze back over one shoulder toward Rocky’s house. Her trained eyes scanned the area, but it was still dark inside, and there was still no sign of movement she could see.
With that concern out of her head, Raegan kept her body low as she carefully began her planned trek across her small backyard and into those running along the same street side as hers.
One by one, she made her way past the other homes. Some were dark like hers and Rocky’s, their occupants presumably already down for the night. A couple were well-lit, the people inside visible as they went about their evening routines.
She took even more precautions when passing through those yards, keeping her body low and in the shadows as much as was humanly possible. When Raegan reached the house at the end of the street, she slowed her steps and brought her focus into high gear.
To the outside world, the two-story Tudor home was the picture of suburban innocence. Brick and stone made up the structure’s exterior. Adorable flower boxes filled with overflowing greenery and blooms adorned the windowsills running along the home’s main floor.
The perfectly manicured landscaping was kept nice and tidy by a lawn service company that, from what she’d observed, came once every week to mow the yard and pull the weeds. And the small, two-car garage in the back never seemed to get any use.
Much like the home itself.
But it had been used at least once in the past two weeks. Raegan knew, because she’d been watching. But the time for that was over. Now was the time to act.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she got inside and found evidence of a crime. But she had to dosomethingto try to stop the men she’d seen go in and out of the house.
Before it was too late.
Raegan decided to check out the garage first. The soles of her boots fell in near-silent steps as she kept her head on a swivelwhile making her way across the pavement leading to its large, windowless doors.
She looked up, her gaze scanning the roof’s ledge for signs of cameras or other surveillance equipment. When she didn’t see anything that could prove she was there, Raegan went around to the south side of the small structure to the pass-through door she’d previously spotted there.
A quick glance around ensured she was still alone. She lifted her hand, wrapped her fist around the knob, and with her breaths held frozen, she started to turn her wrist.
Surprise flickered through her when she found the door unlocked. Pushing it in slowly, she kept the lights off as she slipped inside.
The air was thick and musty as if the garage had been closed up tight for a decent length of time. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the small Streamlight flashlight she’d brought from home. Raegan pushed it on but kept its bright beam low to prevent its detection from the outside.
Although the twin garage doors contained no windows, the garage itself housed two: one facing north, toward the direction of her house, and the other facing south.
With slow, careful steps, she quickly began assessing the building’s contents. Two metal shelves stood along the back wall. A jug of weed killer, a coiled, faded green garden hose, and a pair of rusted trimming shears were all that graced its dusty, cobwebbed shelves.
A noticeable, dark stain marred the pavement in the center of the floor. Evidence that a vehicle had once been parked inside.
Raegan went to the stain and squatted down. Using her teeth, she removed one of her gloves. Using one hand to hold the small flashlight, she pressed the tip of her freed index finger against the splotchy stain.
She brought her finger to her nose before taking a healthy whiff. The scent of old, stale motor oil filled her nostrils, and it was obvious that the source of the leak hadn’t been parked inside the garage in a very long time.
Slipping her hand back into the glove, Raegan pushed herself back up to her feet and looked around some more. Within a few short minutes, it became clear that whatever the men were up to, they weren’t using this space to do it.
She exited the garage, closing the door silently behind her as she left. Once again, Raegan remained vigilant in her situational awareness. Before she took even a single step toward the back of the quiet house, she made sure there wasn’t anyone around to bear witness to what she was about to do.