“There are black shutters on the small downstairs windows,” I said to Vinnie. “They're closed shut just as Grandma described.”
“Okay,” Vinnie said, “we're going in, and here are the possibilities. We could have the wrong house, in which case we're in trouble for scaring the shit out of some innocent dumb-ass family. Or we could have the right house and crazy DeChooch shoots at us.”
“I'm glad you listed it out for me. I feel much better now.”
“Do you have a plan?” Vinnie wanted to know.
“Yeah. How about if you go up and ring the doorbell and see if anyone's home. I'll wait here and do backup.”
“I've got a better idea. How about if you bend over and I'll show you my plan.”
“There aren't any lights on in this house,” I said. “I don't think anyone's in there.”
“They could be asleep.”
“They could be dead.”
“Now that would be a good thing,” Vinnie said. “Dead people don't shoot at you.”
I started across the grass. “Let's see if there are any lights on in back.”
“Remind me not to take any more bonds out on old guys. You can't count on them. They don't think normal. They skip a couple pills and next thing they're stashing stiffs in their shed and kidnapping old ladies.”
“No lights on in the back, either,” I said. “Now what? Are you any good at breaking and entering?”
Vinnie took a couple pairs of disposable rubber gloves from his pocket and we both snapped them on.
“I've had some experience with breaking and entering,” he said. He walked to the back door and tried the handle. Locked. He turned and looked at me and smiled. “Piece of cake.”
“You can pick the lock?”
“No, I can stick my hand through the hole where a pane of glass used to be.”
I moved up close behind Vinnie. Sure enough, one of the windows on the door had been removed.
“Guess DeChooch lost his key,” Vinnie said.
Yeah. Like he ever had it. Pretty clever of him to think to use Soba's vacant house.
Vinnie turned the doorknob from the inside and opened the door. “Show time,” he whispered.
I had my flashlight in hand and my heart was beating faster than normal. Not exactly racing yet, but definitely jogging.
We did a quick search of the upstairs by penlight and decided the upstairs hadn't been inhabited by DeChooch. The kitchen was unused, the refrigerator turned off and propped open. The bedrooms, living room, and dining room were undisturbed, every pillow in place, crystal vases on tables waiting for flowers. Pinwheel Soba lived well.
Between the outside shutters and heavy interior curtains we were able to turn the lights on downstairs. It was exactly as Grandma and Maggie had described. Tarzan country. Leopard-spotted and zebra-striped upholstered furniture. And then just to confuse things, wallpaper with birds found only in South and Central America.
The refrigerator was shut off and empty but still cool inside. Closets were empty. Drawers were empty. The sponge in the dish drain stored under the sink was still damp.
“We just missed him,” Vinnie said. “He's gone and it looks to me like he's not coming back.”
We shut the lights off, and we were about to leave when we heard the automatic garage door roll up. We were in the finished part of the basement. A short hallway and a foyer with stairs g
oing up stood between us and the garage. The door leading to the garage was closed. A bar of light appeared under the closed door.
“Oh shit!” Vinnie whispered.
The door to the garage opened and DeChooch stood outlined in the light. He moved into the foyer and flipped the lights on at the base of the stairs and stared directly at us. We were all frozen like deer in headlights. It lasted for several seconds before he flipped the lights off and ran up the stairs. I assumed he was going for the first-floor front door, but he ran past it and into the kitchen, making pretty good time for an old guy.