Page 16 of Snowbirds
Morrison slowed Blue to a snail’s pace and, with great care, executed a three point-turn, then headed back toward Frank’s address.
“Which house was it?” he asked.
Hatch pointed to an older version of a single-wide similar to Susie and Lance’s, its front door angled away from where Chriswas staying. Morrison swung a left and pulled to a stop in front of the home. There were fewer lights on inside the surrounding homes now, and the hum of HVAC units filled the air like a swarm of cicadas.
“Maybe they do all take their hearing aids out, then turn up the AC?” Morrison said, peering into the dark. “I bet no one hears much. Does it look to you like the door is open?”
The longer he stared at the front door, the more it looked to him like it might be ajar, just a crack. Could have also been his imagination.
“Possibly,” Chris allowed after peering at the modular home’s front door for several seconds.
“We should check. You know, just in case. It’s the right thing to do.” Ivan wanted to go busting in there, but he would play it cool for Hatch.
“Alright.” Chris drew the word out slowly. “But I’ll take the lead. It’s late, and whoever lives here may have just forgotten to shut the door properly.”
“In that case, we need to be neighborly and alert them. Who knows the types of folks around here?” Except for Susie and Lance, who were obviously cool and on the up and up.
Chris narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m going first.”
“Sure, sure,” Ivan agreed easily.
There was no way Ivan was letting Hatch go in first; he’d been a desk man for too long. But Ivan would let him insist he wanted to go first all he wanted.
Together they got out of Big Blue. When they reached the door and Chris tried to take the lead, Ivan stepped in front of him.
“Take the left side,” Ivan ordered.
Amazingly, Chris moved to the left. Ivan took what he considered the more dangerous right side.
“Ready?” he asked, his back pressed against the siding and his right arm outstretched.
Chris nodded.
Raising his fist, Ivan rapped his knuckles against the slightly open door. No response. The house was silent in a way that felt empty. No soft, snuffling sounds of a person asleep, just a sort of abandonment.
“Do you hear anything?” Chris asked quietly.
“I don’t think so.” Ivan banged harder on the door. It moved infinitesimally. If there was someone inside, they weren’t answering.
“The lock isn’t engaged,” Chris pointed out, as if Ivan hadn’t figured that out for himself.
Not wanting to get gut-shot, Ivan kicked the door with the back of his heel, forcing it further open.
“There’s something blocking it,” Chris muttered.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Ivan called out quietly.
He cocked his head, listening, but there was definitely no answer. The house felt deserted, unoccupied, as if no one had been inside for days, if not weeks. But was it empty? If so, why had the door been ajar? And why had some bikers been poking around? That couldn’t be good. Wary, Ivan peeked around the door frame and blinked several times at what he saw in the dim light from the single streetlight nearby.
A human-shaped foot connected to an oddly orange leg kept the door from opening all the way. Ivan stared at it, trying the make sense of the foot and leg from the angle he was at, but it proved impossible.
“Police, we’re coming in,” Ivan called out in a more normal tone.
He didn’t have his normal door-busting gear, so he pulled his phone out and turned on the flashlight function.
“Police?” Chris whispered. Ivan knew he was gawking at him. “Jesus Christ, Ivan.”
“You said not to say we’re not here in an official capacity,” Ivan hissed back.
