11. Hendricks
HENDRICKS
My house is thirty minutes northwest of Blackthorn Ranch, tucked into a valley with a single access road and a clear view in every direction. I had it remodeled to be impenetrable—motion sensors, cameras, reinforced doors, encrypted locks. No one gets in without me knowing.
Except as I drive up, I see a light on in the kitchen.
The perimeter alarm hasn't triggered. I kill the engine a hundred yards away and sit in the dark, watching. My hand moves to the Glock at my hip, but I don't draw it. Not yet.
Someone's inside.
Someone who knew how to bypass my security without leaving a trace.
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