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Perfect.
This meant I could get into his yard to look in the back windows, though I might not be able to get out.
I’d figure that out later.
I climbed on top of the dumpster (not easy and all kinds of gross), stood and looked over the top of his fence.
Clean landing on turf.
He should xeriscape. We were in a water crisis. No one should have lawns anymore in arid climates.
Right, I totally needed to learn better focus.
I looked at the house.
Light on in the kitchen with no one in it (did this mannothear about climate change?). No lights on in the other side of the house. I couldn’t tell from that far away, but it seemed like no blinds were closed over the back windows, because I could see the light shining in from opened doorways to a hall.
Except the last room, but it might just be the door was closed.
This could mean he had nothing to hide.
It could also mean he was an idiot.
Well, I was currently harboring fifty thousand forms of bacteria on my hands and clothing from my climb onto the dumpster. In for a penny, in for a pound.
I put one foot to the top of his fence then leaped over. I landed on soft knees and it still jarred me like a bitch.
Ouch.
Right away, I set the pain aside and returned my attention to the house.
No movement in the windows. I didn’t think I was making that much noise, but, if he could hear it, I hoped my climb onto the dumpster sounded like someone taking out their trash like people often did at seven at night.
Though it appeared I was good.
Sticking to the fence, I moved left, forward, then crouching, I went in.
Coming up from the crouch just enough to see over the windowsill, I noted it was a window to the dining room, through which was a galley kitchen, through which was the living room and him sitting in a recliner watching the Diamondbacks on TV.
Okay, good. He hadn’t heard me and come to investigate.
Onward.
Crouch-walking under the window, I hit a back patio. The first window there, from the dim light shining in from the rest of the house, I saw was a bathroom.
The next room, door open from the hallway, more light shining in, appeared to be an office.
The next room, there were blinds, they were down and closed.
“Shit,” I whispered.
I went around the side of the house, which was rife with mature trees, not a lot of room to move. I shimmied my way in, but the blinds on the window on that side were also closed.
Open windows everywhere else, except this room.
That was fishy.
Right?
