Chapter 11
Indie
Closer - Kings of Leon
Why didn’t I think to wear correct footwear?
My once white sneakers are caked in mud, and if I could hear over the swaying of leaves around me, I bet they’re squeaking like clown shoes.
There was a dip in the verge about two hundred yards down from where we parked, and it provided the perfect entrance way without me having to take a run and jump.
My feet are already soaked, and I swear my big toe is numb.
Also, I’m five foot fucking four. I don’t need to look like I’ve rolled in the dirt like a dog.
I place the Bluetooth speaker into my ear. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeap. No crackling.”
My finger taps against the plastic. That was one thing that began worrying me the further I dipped into the forest, besides from the potential frostbite my feet might succumb to.
The signal is already bad on our cell phones, we don’t have enough feeds, but at least the communication through the earpieces is strong.
I rely on Regina’s senses more than any of her fancy technology.
It takes me around twenty minutes to walk through foliage, having to snap various branches and clamber over collapsed trunks to stay hidden.
And doing this at night?
I could end up lost when making a run for it.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to exit closer to the property with Callum and hop in the car.
My heart does a thump against my ribcage. I won’t be able to do this one like the rest; there’s no way this one can pass as a home invasion.
Now, I’m going to either have to give the kid to Regina, head back and make it look like an accidental fire engulfed this motherfucker, or drug him up so much and dump him out in the water somewhere.
I could make it look like he took his own life, but again, with the police attention already on this, they’d likely look at Victoria first.
My groan breaks through the sound of nature; death by water or fire it is.
I’m going to need to do a crash course on how to get away with either. And it feels as though I’m having a damn baptism by fire.
I might be a killer, but arson hasn’t hit my skill set.
Yet.
“Is everything okay out there?” Regina comes through my ear.
“All good, I’m just going to need to spend some time lurking the dark web to get away with this one.”
I don’t know how to work my way through the damn thing; I rely on my best friend for that shit. “Happy to be of service,” she chimes.
I slow to a stop a couple hundred feet before the cabin.
“Camera’s all good?” I ask, ducking to see if I can spot where the backyard feed is.
“Already rolling on the recording. You can head in.”
My hand taps off the tree, and I tug my hood over my head, pulling the zipper right up until it’s under my eyes, then stroll towards the back porch.
The ground is a mixture of autumn-stained leaves, scattered like confetti across the entire property. The only blessing is it’s wet, the previous flutter of snow melting away so they don’t crunch beneath my feet; that would be a sure as hell way of attracting attention when I do this.
My pulse thuds in my ears. Even though no one’s home, anything could be waiting for me.
The wooden steps groan beneath my feet as I reach the porch, causing my face to screw up.
It’s not loud enough that the sound travels, but if this guy happens to enjoy utter silence, he’ll hear me before he sees me.
The rest of the surface is stable enough that my steps go unnoticed, and I peer inside the glass window, the place looking almost untouched.
I drag a lungful of the damp air in, my gloved hand wrapping around the door handle to test it, managing to easily push it open.
Okay, this guy seriously has no consideration for his own safety.
That was far too easy.
Just before my feet cross the threshold, I hover, glancing down at my wrecked sneakers.
I might not be a professional killer, but I am observant.
Quickly removing my sneakers, I slip inside whilst holding them by my side.
“You better hope your trotters don’t leave behind a stench.”
I roll my eyes, turning around to throw a middle finger at the back camera. Regina’s laugh is my evidence she’s got her hawk eyes on me, and I immediately spot the camera cable tied against a tree trunk. When I turn back around, my gaze slowly traces every single inch of the ground floor.
Despite there being no large masses of mess, someone’s living here.
A jacket is hung up on the wall, cutlery lying out near the studio kitchen, and a laptop is centred on the coffee table.
My feet lead me further into the living area. The place can’t hold any more than two adults, and thankfully there shouldn’t be a load of hiding places for John.
I glance up to the balcony of the upper floor. The bedroom seems to dominate the space, the connecting door ajar, showing a peek of a shower.
It feels eerie, but that could just be my nerves.
I walk past the front door, the wood groaning beneath my feet, and a familiar smell hits me from the jacket as I brush past it, forcing me to stumble on my next step.
My fingers pinch my nose, as if that will stop my brain from malfunctioning during a highly dangerous situation.
This has happened to me a couple of times now, smelling the familiar notes of aftershave he wore.
Can’t allow the whiff of a scent to catapult me back on my progress.
Stay focused.
Stay focused.
Stay focused.
The words chant like a mantra in my head, nose still pinched as I inch towards the closed door, along with fighting the nostalgia.
Regina’s voice screeches through the earpiece, almost causing my heart to give out.
“Abort. Fucking abort!”
God dammit.
My feet thud against the wooden floor towards the exit, and the glass door almost shatters with the force I slam it with, slipping in the wet as my socks send me sliding on my ass.
Stealth when I’m about to take out a mark?
Easy, it’s assisted by that darkness that drenches over me.
Prowling their hideout to get a feel of their surroundings?
Well, this is my first time.
A car honks loudly, Regina cursing in my ear. I almost lose my footing again as I batter across the yard, sticks and rocks stabbing at the pads of my feet until I can get deep enough into the treeline.
I’m panting by the time I get deep enough into camouflage to get my sneakers back on, wiping off the nature that’s decided to tangle itself within the material of my socks.
Instead of walking, I jog the rest of the way, coming out just slightly down from where I entered. “Where are you?” I ask her breathlessly, checking the road before I slip down the verge and landing on my feet.
“About a mile down. I’ll turn and grab you.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I leisurely make my way towards her as I fight to control my breathing, only a single car passing until the familiar registration plate comes into view.
My hand reaches for the door as I hop inside, Regina already hitting the gas.
“Did he see you?” I ask her, clicking my belt into place.
“No, he came up behind me. Pretended I was on a call with my hazards on the entire time.”
She doesn’t slow as we near the driveway, and I glance up to try to get a view of the vehicle. “Did you notice the kid?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t risk checking my visor, only the side mirror. Couldn’t see from that angle.”
I mutter a curse; we were at least hoping we could go back to Victoria with an update on her little boy.
But I didn’t notice any evidence of toys lying around, causing a chill to creep down my spine.
We zip through the winding roads, and I glance over to see her looking at me, worry still lingering in the edges. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to this kid; we’re his only hope. And I’ll never bypass a chance to take one of those assholes out.
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back against the seat rest.
“Well, I guess now we play the waiting game.”