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The kind of crime spree occurring here now was far more common in a city. While patrolling as a rookie, he’d broken up a ring of thieves by sheer luck. Turning a corner in a residential neighborhood, he saw a man leave a panel truck in a driveway, scan for anyone watching and stroll around the side of the house. Seth had parked where his marked unit would be hidden behind the larger panel truck and waited. He hadn’t been surprised when the guy reappeared with his arms full. When he saw Seth, he leaped into the truck and tried to take off. Seth had taken the precaution of blocking the tires.
Turned out the electronics and jewelry he’d just stolen was nothing compared to what was already in the back of the truck. Once a responding detective identified the guy, they found his garage full of stolen household goods. Fingerprints nailed two of his friends, who were holding more stolen goods. A lot of people were really happy to come into the police station to identify their stolen items.
Seth had already talked to the patrol officers here in Lookout as well as the county patrol sergeant, and urged everyone to keep an eye out for something as simple as a car moving from one mailbox to another—particularly if the driver was removing mail from the boxes rather than tossing fliers in newspaper boxes, say.
Sooner or later, a sharp-eyed cop would be in the right place at the right time.
Listening with half an ear to the police radio, he checked email. Oh, good—a response from Hammond already.
* * *
HEARING THE TV, Robin stepped into the living room. There was a lot of laughter from a talk show that didn’t look like anything she could imagine interesting Michael. But gosh, who knew? He was in his recliner with his feet up, apparently watching. Maybe he usually spent all day glued to the television. Maybe he loved soap operas and out of self-consciousness had been depriving himself. It was none of her business.
But seemingly still unaware of her scrutiny, he grabbed the remote and irritably flicked through several stations.
“Hi,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m making soup and sandwiches for Jacob and me, and I thought I’d see if you’re ready for lunch.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.” The TV went dark, and he dropped the remote onto the end table. After a minute he said, “I’m fighting some heartburn, but maybe eating something mild will help.”
“Are you sure it’s heartburn? It might be worth getting checked out at a walk-in clinic.”
He smiled at her and lowered the footrest. “I’ve seen my doctor, and I’m on prescription meds for this. It comes and goes.”
“Is my cooking too spicy? I could—”
Michael looked and sounded a lot like his son when he laughed. “It’s probably that damn beef jerky I decided to gnaw on earlier.”
She laughed. “That does sound like a good possibility. Well, lunch will be ready in ten minutes.”
In the kitchen, she heated soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Which might be a little fatty for someone suffering from heartburn, but Michael could decide that for himself.
Jacob, who’d been playing with his blocks, decided he needed to use the bathroom. She was leading him down the hall when she heard a rattling sound from behind her. The back door handle turning? Had Seth come home early again for some reason?
She glanced back to see the reappearance of a nightmare.
A masked man just outside lifted a gun to slam the butt into the glass pane in the door. Glass shattered, and he reached inside for the lock.
Robin screamed.
Chapter Eleven
Scream still ringing in her ears, she backed out of sight. Michael was at her side instantly. To her shock, he held a big handgun that he must have been carrying all along without her noticing.
“Get Jacob upstairs,” he ordered her in a low voice. “Find something to defend yourself with if you can. Don’t argue. Now run.”
She lifted Jacob into her arms, bent over to make a smaller target and ran.
The intruder had started across the kitchen. “Stop!” he yelled.
But she was out of sight, leaping up the stairs. Terrified for Michael down below, but Jacob had to come first.
A bullet smacked into the wallboard just behind her. Three more steps, two. Panting, she debated. Which room? Which room?
