Chapter 13 Invisible Man #2
But Raye told us in the briefing (and Cap had butted in to grunt his concurrence) that, if you looked like you were supposed to be where you were, even if you were totally dressed like someone who was up to no good and strapped with a Taser, people didn’t tend to question it.
However, we didn’t act like we were on a casual stroll.
We didn’t hurry.
But we didn’t fuck around.
As for me—and I figured since they were in on this, it was the same for the other women—I did this feeling the rush.
I didn’t feel anxious, just hyper-alert because of that rush.
I wasn’t sure this was the smartest reaction to have.
What I was sure of was that I trusted these women with me. I trusted them with my heart. I trusted them with my life.
Oh yeah.
Mm-hmm.
That was how great my friend posse was.
If you could trust them to commit a felony with them (for a good cause, of course), they were the genuine article.
Duane’s house was tiny and ill-kept. He’d let the sun burn his grass to dirt, and he hadn’t done anything about it. It needed a paint job. And it just looked sad.
The good thing was, all the houses around it were the same, so it wasn’t like he was letting down the neighborhood—if you could count that as good.
Considering I’d latched on to my usual cheerfulness and optimism, I was going with that.
As planned, Shanti broke off to hit her lookout spot, and Raye and I walked right to the backyard.
We snapped on our gloves, and she went to one window. I went to another. We both went to work on them.
It wasn’t the easiest thing, jimmying the screen out with my penknife (Tex gave mine to me when I became an official Angel, it was adorbs, it had cherry blossoms on it!).
But I got the screen out and went after the window.
Locked.
Raye experienced the same thing.
We went past the back door and did the same with the next two windows.
Also locked.
Shit.
We shared a glance and went to the back door.
I opened the rickety screen.
She muttered, “I saw Cap do this once, so here goes nothing.”
She lifted her black Puma, and putting substantial power behind it (I was impressed), she thumped the door with her foot right by the handle.
It popped open.
We were both so surprised that worked, we stood there in stupefied silence, wasting long, precious moments staring at the open door, before she said, “Text.”
I nodded, yanked out my phone, hit up the group chat I’d already programed, and texted, We’re in.
I stowed my phone and followed her in.
It became apparent very quickly that Duane didn’t harbor his reserves of energy in not doing yard work or maintenance because he was all about keeping the inside neat and clean.
It smelled like sweat, fried food and lost hope.
We entered a tiny utility room piled with so much dirty laundry, it hid the laundry machines.
This fed into the kitchen.
Ulk.
Mm-hmm.
Duane wasn’t about being neat and clean.
Or maintenance.
Raye had a Maglite too. We switched them on, kept the beams to the ground, and she jerked her head toward the front living room.
I nodded, she headed that way, and I started to look through the detritus strewn all over a beat-up kitchen table.
Bills. Fliers. Pamphlets. Used cereal bowls. Dried coffee and milk stains on the tabletop.
And porn.
In the kitchen.
Gag.
There was nothing there. No threatening messages formed from letters from magazines. No ransom notes. No bank statements I could peruse for strange deposits. No shrine to Amy Small. No diary we could read about his unrequited love and how she was in danger.
I was moving toward the beat-up and chipping L-shaped kitchen counter when my phone vibrated in my back pocket.
I pulled it out, looked at it, and read Shanti’s text, Get out.
Fuck!
I whistled and went to the door to the living room to see Raye bent over what looked like another stack of porn by a shabby armchair, but her head was tipped back, and she was looking my way.
“Gotta go,” I whispered.
We both switched off our flashlights like we had an inner sync as she hightailed it to me.
We hightailed it to the utility room.
And we slammed right into Shanti coming in the back door.
She put her gloved finger to her lips, set the door to and whispered, “Go, go, go.”
Not sure where she wanted me to go, I got sure when she shoved me back into the utility room where I ran into Raye.
Raye also wasn’t sure, so this was why I became a human Ping-Pong ball, batted back and forth between them.
After Shanti hissed urgently and jabbed a finger at the door to the kitchen, Raye got with the program, led the way into the kitchen, the living room, and down the side hall.
We followed, and we heard a man say from what sounded like the utility room, “Door’s busted.”
Shit!
Raye ducked into the back bedroom.
She went straight to the closet.
Shanti flattened her lean body on the floor and scooted under the bed. I wasn’t sure her booty would make it, but thankfully, she disappeared.
I went to the closet with Raye.
I closed the doors, and we hunkered in there.
I heard the snap on her Taser holster go, so I did the same with mine, pulling the weapon free.
That was when we heard. “Don’t be a pussy, TJ. Look around. The dude is hardly on top of his handyman work.”
“I’m not either. But if my back door was busted, I’d fix it.”
“What’s the guy got to steal?”
TJ didn’t reply because Duane had nothing, as far as I could tell.
Nothing to steal and just nothing.
It took a good deal of willpower not to slide into utter despair at what we were learning about this guy, but considering I was in a very dodgy situation and had to have my head in the game, I managed it.
The first man kept at TJ.
“Anyway, who the fuck but us would come after this guy? He’s a total loser. Even the whores he sees every night don’t have the time of day for that guy. He’s like the invisible man.”
I clenched my teeth and felt the unhappy vibes wafting off Raye.
“Just put it where he can see it so we can get outta this dump,” First Guy said. “Dex is tired of his crap. He needs to get with the fuckin’ program.”
“All right, asshole, all right,” TJ bit out.
And yes, we could hear all this as plain as day considering the walls were paper thin.
Okay, so if we discovered nothing else that night, at least it was good to know that whatever was happening hadn’t come to some nasty fruition.
Though, since those guys were there, the bad news was, whatever was happening was still happening.
There was nothing for long moments before TJ asked, “What are you doing?”
“I was wrong about the guy having nothing to steal. These are some solid titty magazines.”
“Just grab ’em and let’s go. This place smells like shit and the whole vibe is making me contemplate suicide.”
I completely felt what TJ was feeling.
“So dramatic,” First Guy barbed.
After that, we heard some moving around and then nothing.
We stayed put.
More nothing.
We remained where we were.
Finally, Raye lightly touched my arm and then carefully opened the closet door.
She inched out, Taser up and ready.
I inched out after her the same way, but I went toward the bed.
She hit the door and flattened herself against the wall before peering around.
I bent down to Shanti and indicated with my Taser for her to slide out.
She did, and we followed Raye as we slowly made our way to the living room.
Raye put two fingers up and signaled to the kitchen like she was head commando in a commando movie.
And she didn’t look like a dork doing it.
I mean, we weren’t badasses.
But come on.
We were still kinda badass.
Shanti carefully made her way there and looked around. She entered. I followed her.
She was in the utility room. She shook her head to me where I was in the kitchen.
“Clear,” I whispered to Raye.
See?
Kinda badass!
Raye clicked on her Maglite and immediately shone it on the tattered armchair.
There was an eight by ten picture resting in the seat.
We all moved to huddle around.
“Snap it,” Raye said, her voice sounding strange.
I knew why when I saw the picture was of a seriously worked over Amy Small, who looked to be crying. She was gagged and sitting on a chair. She was holding a newspaper in front of her stomach, the paper facing out.
I holstered my Taser, pulled my phone out of my pocket, tucked my flashlight between my knees, and took six snaps, portrait and landscape.
“Got it,” I said as I straightened.
“Let’s go,” Raye said.
We’d hit the utility room when I said, “Wait.”
They stopped.
“Those dudes are probably not coming back,” I remarked.
Raye and Shanti nodded.
I ran to the kitchen table, set my flashlight down, grabbed a pen, one of Duane’s bills (the guy really had to consider going paperless) and wrote on the back.
Raye and Shanti were close so I held what I wrote low, and Raye shined her light on it.
We saw the photo.
We’ll be back tomorrow.
Leave us a message.
Tell us how we can help.
AA
“Perfect,” Raye whispered.
I moved to the fridge and took my life in my hands by opening it (uh…yeah, as I suspected, the interior was no fun) and setting the note on a shelf.
After I closed the door, Shanti whispered, “Let’s bolt. I need, like, seven showers after being under that bed.”
I didn’t want to scare her by commenting on how many dust motes were in her hair, so I kept my mouth shut.
We left the house, found a wobbly gate to the alley that was unlocked, went through it and ran like hell to the car.