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And the only reason I knew this was because Nick had somehow discovered it and made sure everyone else in the office saw it as well. To his credit, this was totally my level of humor, and I’d thought it was hysterically funny. But, hey, if not for that I wouldn’t have known where Breckenridge was and how it was laid out.

I shared my wisdom with Ed as he drove, deeply disappointed when he failed to see the extreme hilarity in the layout. Oh well, maybe it was something that had to be seen to be appreciated.

As we entered the subdivision Ed put his hand on his gun, and I slouched down in the front seat of the truck.

“There’s the address she gave me,” I said, peering up over the dash at the very ordinary brick ranch-style house. I frowned at the blue Mazda in the driveway. “And that’s her car.” Guess it wasn’t a bullshit address after all.

I started to tell Ed not to pull into the driveway, but he obviously had a healthy dose of common sense and simply drove on past the house. I didn’t see any movement behind the curtains as we drove by, but there were other ways for her to be watching out for us. Surely by now McKinney would’ve let her know I’d escaped. But would either of them be expecting me to come here?

“This could be another ambush,” I told Ed as we rounded the curve.

He gave a terse nod. “That occurred to me as well. There’s a bag behind the seat. Has night vision goggles in it. I’m going to park on the other side of that green space, and we can approach through the trees.”

I leaned over the back seat and saw a black nylon tactical bag. It was a lot heavier than I expected, and when I got a look at the contents I saw why.

“Holy shit, dude.” Not just night vision goggles, but also a variety of handguns, ammunition, road flares, and what looked like a stun gun. “Can I just say how glad I am that you’re doing the good guy thing right now?”

Ed smiled tightly, but shame flashed through his eyes. He parked the truck in an empty driveway in the left “ovary,” grabbed the bag and got out. I scrambled out after him, then had to struggle to keep up as he took off at a lope toward the trees. About a dozen feet into the woods he stopped and crouched, fished out a pair of the goggles and handed them to me. I took them gratefully since I could barely see my hand in front of my face.

The world leapt into green and black focus, just like in the movies. “These are so cool,” I breathed.

“Can you shoot a gun?” he asked.

“I’m not a great shot or anything, but I know which end to point at the bad guys,” I replied.

“Good enough.” He pressed the butt of a pistol into my hand. I couldn’t see details with the goggles on, but it wasn’t a very large gun. Some kind of automatic. Bigger than a .22 but smaller than a .45. And that was about the extent of my gun knowledge.

He began moving through the trees, and I followed, doing my best to be quiet but certain that we sounded like a pair of rampaging elephants. It probably took us close to fifteen minutes to get through the stretch of woods, part of which was a swampy section that we had to wade through, soaking us to our knees. I kept scanning but didn’t see anyone lurking in the woods lying in wait.

We dropped to the ground a few feet from the other edge of the woods and watched the house for several minutes. Finally Ed turned to me and pulled his goggles off. “Too much light around the house for night-vision now,” he said in a barely audible voice. I quickly tugged mine off, then had to blink a few times to get used to normal vision again.

“I don’t see anyone,” I said, doing my best to match his low volume.

“Me neither.”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t smell anyone either.”

He shot me an uncertain look. I shrugged and smiled sweetly.

“Uh, okay,” he muttered. “Well, I think we should go for it.”

We shifted into crouches, then moved quickly through the back yard and pressed ourselves up against the house. I edged to the door and started to reach for the handle, but Ed grabbed my arm before I could touch it.

“No gloves,” he hissed, giving my hand a pointed look. I winced. Oh, yeah. Probably best not to leave fingerprints.

But he didn’t release my arm. “Look at the door frame,” he said.

I followed his gaze, cold settling into my gut at the scrape marks around the lock.

“Lock is broken,” he whispered, grim expression coming over his face. He gave the backyard another quick scan, then—since he did have gloves on—gently tugged the back door open.

“Stay here while I check it out,” he murmured.

“The fuck I will,” I shot back.

He gave me a sharp look. “You’re a big tough zombie,” he whispered. “How can you be afraid to be left out here alone?”

“’Cause I’m also a neurotic chick who’s already been attacked once today,” I whispered back with a scowl.

He processed that, then nodded. “Fair enough. Follow me, and try not to shoot me in the back.”

“No promises,” I muttered.

He snorted in response and slipped inside. I followed and quietly pulled the door closed behind me. The house was utterly silent except for the hum of the refrigerator. The cold feeling in my gut began to increase as we moved through the kitchen and into the living room.

Yet even with the sense that something was really fucked up, it still shocked the hell out of me when I saw Sofia lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the floor.

I stopped where I was as I took it all in. She was on her back with one leg bent up under the other and her right arm flung out to her side. Her eyes were open, and blood tracked across her forehead from where she’d been shot in the head. I couldn’t tell if that was the only wound, but either way she was clearly dead. I’d seen hundreds of bodies before, of course, but I’d always been prepared for it. This time, though, I’d been coming here to lay into her and hopefully find out what the hell was going on. I’d never honestly believed that she’d ever really been in danger.

I let out a shaking breath as I scanned the room. No sign of struggle—just like Marianne’s house—except for a knocked-over can of Coke that had made a large brown stain in the pale carpet. Sofia didn’t keep a terribly neat house, though the mess was mostly clutter, not dirt. I moved over to the table. A desk calendar covered much of the surface, surrounded by stacks of books and magazines. The calendar was at least two years old and covered with notes and phone numbers and reminders. She probably didn’t want to get a new calendar because then she’d lose all the information scrawled onto this one. I could appreciate that mentality. I almost liked her a bit more now that I knew she hadn’t been perfect. Almost.

“We need to get out of here now,” Ed said, grabbing me by the arm.

“Hang on,” I said, peering at one phone number that was circled. Above it was scrawled “K@ScottFH.” The number looked vaguely familiar, as if it was one that I’d dialed a few times. It wasn’t Marcus’s, I knew that much. What the hell did K@ScottFH mean? Was it an email address? If so wasn’t it supposed to have a “com” or “net” at the end?

I didn’t want to risk touching anything so I did my best to memorize it and the number instead of finding a pen and scrap of paper. Ed tugged on my arm again, but this time I didn’t resist and allowed him to lead me to the back door. He eased it open and did a quick scan, then seized my hand and took off at a run toward the woods. I had no problem keeping up, and when we reached the woods, I pulled the goggles back on as if I’d worn them a thousand times. I didn’t say a word as we returned to the truck, remaining silent until we were well away from the house and the subdivision.

“You okay?” I finally asked.

Ed’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Not really,” he said. “I’ve known Sofia a long time. She could be a real bitch sometimes, but…” His expression darkened. “I’m going to kill that McKinney motherfucker.”

“You think McKinney did it? But I thought you shot him.”