Page 82 of Haunting the Hunter
“No, I don’t. But I care about both of you.”
“Drop it, Jack.”
“You started it.”
I roll my eyes—this is no time to be petty. At least she’s distracted.
I shove the worry and bitterness down and set my sights back on the house.
The cool wind stirs the trees, muffling my steps as I creep around to the back.
“You got eyes inside?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“Only four cams. Front and back. No movement… but keep an eye out.”
I crouch under the west window and test the latch.
It’s unlocked.
My stomach twists.
No one leaves a window unlocked out here. Not unless they’re sloppy… or it’s a trap.
Carefully, I shove the window open. The wood sticks, groaning, but gives enough for me to slip through. My feet land on thick, plush carpet.
I stay crouched, looking around to find an empty room with a bookshelf and two lounge chairs.
I turn to shut the window—and a shadow cuts across the glass. My breath stalls for a moment, but no one comes.
I lock the window, backing further into the room. A light is on. A dull golden glow spills from the hallway ahead as I creep forward.
“Hallway’s clear,” Jack says softly. “Make a right, there is a door at the end of the hall. You’ll need to pick it.”
I move quietly, wincing as the floorboards creak beneath my boots. I kneel at the door, lockpick sliding into place before I fiddle with it.
Click.
I open the door to an office, the smell of fresh paint stinging my nose. There is a desk sitting in the center of the dark room and a suitcase on the floor. A laptop sits open, waiting, casting a soft blue glow into the room.
I slip into the chair—the cushion sinking beneath me as I pull out the USB Jack provided and plug it in. Lines of code that mean nothing to me scroll across the screen.
“Give me a few minutes… oh—wait. Fuck, Cade. Someone’s coming. Find cover.Now.”
I quietly close the laptop, being sure to leave the USB where it is, and scan the room, seeing a closet with bifold doors.
I hurry from the desk on light feet and squeeze inside the small space, sliding the doors shut just as the lock clicks.
I hold my breath as the door creaks open, the sound of heavy footfalls entering the room.
“I’m almost in… stay hidden,” Jack mutters, voice strained. Tense. “We need this guy alive,” he reminds me. Again.
Through the slats, I spot him.
Not a guard.
A large man in a fitted black suit.
Clean.
