Not surprising—these particular residents didn’t seem to get any mail delivery that was personal. Conall knew, because he’d taken a quick look after the postal carrier came and went each day. He’d half hoped to see that his targets had bought a locking mailbox he’d have had to break into, but no. It would seem snail mail didn’t interest them.
Going through someone’s garbage was a potentially interesting but invariably odoriferous task. Conall wore latex gloves for that reason.
What he discovered was that the residents were subsisting on frozen food and pizza. Clearly they weren’t getting their daily quota of fruits and vegetables. There wasn’t so much as a carrot peeling or apple core in the can. The pizza, though, was interesting. Either they were having it delivered, or someone was going into town and picking it up. Either way, it suggested possibilities.
The pizza parlor whose boxes had been smashed flat to fit into the can must be new since Conall’s day, but he could find it. Possibly the owner could be induced to cooperate. Say, allow someone to substitute for the delivery driver, or even look the other way while a listening device was inserted in the corrugated cardboard of the box. Right now, Conall would give a great deal to listen in on even one conversation. Maybe more than that, if the box then sat in the garage for up to a week until the next trash pickup.
He put the lid on the can, then ducked down as a car passed on the road, the headlights momentarily blinding him. It kept going; no one had seen him.
Conall jogged up the gravel road, careful to keep to the weedy verge where there were no potholes. Breaking his ankle wasn’t part of the program.
He wished he’d learned more, but was energized by having any idea at all of how to penetrate the perimeter. He was usually more patient than this; a surveillance could go on for weeks or months, and rushing it could be fatal. But this time he had reason for his impatience. He needed to get the hell away from his hometown, from Duncan and Jane whose eyes were as discerning as Lia’s, from Lia herself and Walker and Brendan.
He’d spent his career playing perilous games with cold-blooded killers and rarely felt even a pang of fear. Conall felt one now. He told himself it was stupid to believe he was in any kind of danger, but the way he’d felt earlier, gut clenched and heart hammering, told him he was. He didn’t know how or why, and that made the threat all the greater.
As he let himself into the dark house, he remembered that tomorrow was the family reunion there was no way in hell he could avoid it. He winced. Brothers, their sweet wives, a herd of children. And him, in the spotlight.
If ever there was a time he’d needed backup.
CHAPTER SIX
LIA’S GRIP ON the shoulder belt became white-knuckled as the Suburban slowed. “Are you sure they’re expecting us, too?”
“I’m sure.”
She could tell Conall was trying to sound relaxed. It was absolutely no comfort to her at all that he had failed. He didn’t want to be here. She and the kids were camouflage, and she, for one, didn’t feel exuberantly leafy.
The boys looked… Lia stole a glance over her shoulder. Surprisingly, although they looked nervous, they were also craning their necks as Conall turned into a driveway. Sorrel was the one who sat stiffly, her expression one of massive indifference that thinly masked anxiety.
As if she had anything to fear. Lia, now, felt like a dumb lamb trotting through the chute into the slaughterhouse. Accompanied by a federal law enforcement agent, she was going to a potluck at a cop’s house. Where yet another guest was the local police chief.
Way to avoid attention.
Why, oh, why hadn’t she said gee, thanks, but no?
At least Stacy had been able to babysit and Lia hadn’t had to bring the two obviously Hispanic, Spanish-speaking children. Although she had no doubt Conall had mentioned them.
The house was a white-painted bungalow. The backyard was enclosed by a six-foot board fence, gate closed. The lot was a large one for being in town, and it looked like there might be a smaller house in back.
The Suburban came a stop behind a massive black SUV. Conall set the brake and turned off the engine. Nobody moved. After a minute, Lia turned to look at him. Really look at him. That was the moment when she realized he was even more nervous than she was.