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“Fine,” Luke snarled, ripping the food from Dylan’s hand.
“Here, Flannels” — Dylan rooted around in his takeout bag — “I got you one too because I want us to be friends.”
“You do?” Gray glanced back to find Dylan mugging him with his usual level of congeniality as he handed over the sandwich.
Gray snorted but took the proffered grub.
They scarfed down their meal in silence, then Gray swiped up the binoculars again. After another several minutes of inactivity, he swore.
The guy was seriously agitated, and it was starting to occur to Luke that this was about way more than a missing necklace for him. Since they appeared to have some time on their hands, Luke decided to probe.
“Why did Kory think you were being paranoid earlier? What was that about?”
Gray lowered the binoculars, gaze flickering to him before he trained it out the windshield. “The first girl I ever loved was kidnapped.”
“Shit,” Dylan murmured.
“What happened?”
Gray turned at Luke’s question, eyes growing haunted. “Someone took her from the diner where she worked and shoved her into the trunk of a car.”
“What happened to her?” Luke ventured tentatively. “Did she uhm…”
“Nah.” Gray shook his head quickly, peering back out the window. “I got her back. It took some searching, but we found each other again. And then a few months later, I bought her this necklace. Gave it to her after she moved to San Diego, actually.”
“Kory,” Dylan whispered behind them.
“Yeah. That’s my girl,” Gray said, a smile lifting his cheeks. “My first love. Myforeverlove. And Iwillget that necklace back.”
Suddenly, Luke was determined to find it as well. This wasn’t just about punishing Aldon for what he’d taken from Andy. He couldn’t give her back her bird. But he could help Gray recover Kory’s.
“Yo,” Dylan said, jerking their attention back to the house down the street. “Incoming.”
An orange Camaro pulled into Aldon’s driveway and disappeared into the garage. Seconds later, Luke peeped the living room lights flickering on through the binoculars. He straightened in his chair. “Aldon’s home. We ready?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said darkly. “Let’s do this.”
The benefit of stewing over current events in Gray’s truck all afternoon was that they’d had plenty of time to devise a plan to minimize the risk of serious jail time for what they were about to do.
Rounding the truck, Gray pulled a large shipping box over the tailgate. He’d had a stash of them broken down in the bed of his Ford since he worked for a freight company. He’d also scrounged up a couple work shirts for Dylan and him to throw on while Luke taped up the box.
Setting the oversized parcel on Aldon’s porch, the guys rang the doorbell. Luke held back behind some hedges out of range of the camera mounted above the door.
Seconds later, Aldon’s wary voice crackled through the unit’s intercom. “Who is it?”
Gray pointed to the box. “We have a delivery for Aldon Wickers.”
“I’m not expecting one. You must have the wrong house.”
“Oh,” Gray said, adopting a confused expression as he peered down at the packing label on the box. “This says 8103 Sunny Vale Lane, Aldon Wickers. You got a birthday or something coming up?”
“Not for another three months.”
“Maybe someone’s planning ahead.” Glancing at the inspector’s report they’d snagged from Andy’s kitchen counter, Gray sighed. “Look, man, I have an invoice here that says to deliver this weight bench to Aldon Wickers, and it’s heavy as hell. We’d appreciate it if you’d let us do our job and white glove this bitch into your house.”
“Weight bench, huh?”
Luke was banking on the man’s ego with that one. The dude seemed exactly the sort who’d have earned his muscles pumping iron at the gym on his days off from harassing his coworkers.
