A Flicker of Doubt - Tim Myers [26]
Chapter 7
I had some time before I had to get back to open the candleshop, so I decided to try to see Cyrus again. Our earlier conversation had disturbed me greatly, and I wasn’t about to obey my friend’s wishes. Something was going on there, something that just didn’t feel right.
I tried the doorknob when I got to his place, but it was locked this time. I rang the bell, and a few seconds later a large, heavy set man wearing a pair of dress pants and a Windbreaker answered the door.
“Help you?” he asked gruffly.
“I’m here to see Cyrus,” I said, trying to see past him inside the house.
“He’s not accepting visitors,” the man said as he started to close the door.
“I’m his friend. Tell him Harrison Black is here to see him.”
The man said, ‘I’ve got orders about you in particular. You’re supposed to go away and not bother him anymore. Do you understand?”
“Just who are you, anyway?”
The man smiled grimly. “I’m the guy between you and this door. Now beat it,” he said, then slammed the door in my face.
Why had Cyrus hired this bulldog to watch his front door? I couldn’t imagine anyone threatening him, but why else would he put such a formidable barrier up to visitors? I got in the truck and drove around the corner, then parked behind another vehicle that held ladders, buckets and other cleaning equipment That was one good thing about driving a pickup truck in neighborhoods like this one. I was usually mistaken for a craftsman at work catering to the needs of people who spent mote time behind their desks than they did in their homes. It was the modern, too-often told story of suburbia. Bored housewives and working-class folks inhabited those brightly decorated houses that felt empty nonetheless.
I grabbed a clipboard from under the seat and shoved a pencil behind one ear. Markum had taught me that trick. With a clipboard in his hand and a worried look on his face, a man could go just about anywhere without anyone questioning him. I cut through a neighbor’s yard and made my way over to Cyrus’s house. There had to be something going on in there that someone didn’t want the world to know about
The windows were dirty from accumulated grime. I pulled out my bandana handkerchief and tried to wipe away the dirt Was that a newly built ramp covering the steps going up from the sunken living room? Blast it all, I couldn’t see much of anything. I was still struggling to get a good look inside when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.
“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”
The clipboard fell out of my hand as I realized it was Cyrus’s personal Cerberus, diligently guarding the gate.
“He’s my friend,” I protested.
“And he’s my employer,” the man said as he started pushing me toward the front gate.
“How’d you know I was here?” I asked.
“There’s new security around the perimeter. I knew you were coming the second you stepped on his land. Don’t come back. I won’t be so easy on you next time.” He gave me a forced shove, and I nearly lost my balance as I stumbled forward. By the time I’d managed to right myself, I saw that I had crossed the property line. The goon retrieved the clipboard, studied it a moment, then threw it at my feet
I thought about saying something, but I couldn’t think of anything appropriate that might help my case. Most likely he was under the impression that he’d won the war, but all I was willing to concede was a single battle. I’d be back—I wasn’t sure how yet—but I would slip past him and see my friend. I considered using some of Becka’s grand