Chapter Fourteen
What the hell were they doing in there? Doc Lawrence had pulled the blinds down on the second floor.
The man ground his teeth. His anger was getting the best of him, and there was nothing for it. He needed those files gone. If Doc Lawrence and Hazel Kincaid had to die, so be it. She was becoming a pain in the ass, anyway, always poking around in things she shouldn’t be.
He pushed his way through the rose bushes and went to the window of the room they’d been in the other day. It was dark, but the shade was up. Doc Lawrence must have raised it again. Slowly, he jimmied the window lock. The best thing about old houses was the old windows. Not nearly as secure as their present-day counterparts.
The lock turned, and he quietly slid the window upward. He listened carefully. Sounds in the kitchen. The kettle just beginning to boil. He quickly pulled himself up onto the windowsill and swung his legs inside.
He listened again. More kettle noises and some dishes rattling. He moved down the hallway and peered around the doorway into the kitchen. Doc Lawrence was pouring water into a tea pot.
He pulled the gun out of his pocket. This was going to be fun.