Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [114]
As the clock glowed 11:03, Martin thought about calling the Pearls again. If he could confirm that they were both safely home, he too could head home and get some sleep. But placing the call on his cell phone was out of the question, particularly at this hour. A random hang-up during the day could be ignored by most homeowners, but a mysterious and potentially frightening call in the middle of the night might cause someone to involve the police. If the Pearls’ phone had caller identification capabilities, it would not be difficult to trace his number back to him.
Still, he wished that he knew if his clients were home and together.
At that moment Martin realized that a quick visual inspection of the garage, to determine if both cars were present, would yield the information he desired. The Pearls’ garage was attached to their home and had two windows facing the backyard. Though they were obscured by the tree line that ran along the border of the park and the Pearls’ neighbors, Martin could see the dark outlines of both windows through the shadows. If he were able to look through one of them, he was sure that he could see if Sophie Pearl’s Explorer was parked inside. With both cars present, Martin could be certain that both of his clients were home and that Sophie Pearl was not alone.
Slipping on a pair of surgical gloves, more out of habit than necessity, Martin turned off his car, slid his keys into his jeans’ pocket, and exited the Subaru, walking along the tree line that perpendicularly intersected the property line between two of the Pearls’ neighbors. As late as it was, Martin doubted that anyone would be awake, but many homes were equipped with motion-activated spotlights in their front- and backyards. Though he couldn’t remember ever seeing one in the Pearls’ backyard, he had no desire to set off any floodlights in their neighbors’.
At the edge of the tree line, Martin turned left, walking along the invisible property line that separated the Pearls’ neighbors’ backyards from the park. He passed by a total of three houses, including Noah Blake’s, and found them all to be dark and quiet. When he reached the Pearls’ property line, he took a quick turn into their backyard, across their well-manicured lawn, and over to their garage. Though the windows were higher up than he expected, Martin was able to grab the bottom sill and hoist himself up, feet no longer touching the ground as he looked into the garage.
Parked inside the garage was Sophie Pearl’s Ford Explorer.
Parked beside it was Clive Darrow’s blue pickup truck.
Spotting the pickup caused Martin to gasp and lose his grip on the sill, dropping him to the grass below. He landed with a thud, smacking his elbow into the dirt and jamming his keys nearly out of his back pocket and into the small of his back. The instantaneous sensation of panic, marked by the trembling of his hands and arms, the loss of peripheral vision, and his inability to focus on any one object, consumed him like never before. For more than a minute, he was incapable of anything but erratic breathing and a breathless, nearly soundless “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Clive Darrow was here, inside the house, and so were the Pearls. Both of them. Martin had assumed that Darrow would wait until Sophie Pearl was alone before attacking her. He had been certain of it. His mistake had placed his clients in grave danger. As these thoughts raced through his mind, they incapacitated him to an even greater degree.
Nearly two minutes passed before Martin was able to regain control of his breathing, though the violent shaking of his arms, his legs, and even his head continued unabated. He reached into his right pants pocket, hoping to find his cell phone before realizing that he had left it behind in the Subaru. He had taken his keys with him, something he would never have done normally, but had left his cell phone in the compartment above the gear shift. Never enter a home with incriminating evidence on your person. This rule, which had become