Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [75]
His only access would need to be through either the exposed front or side door.
With time of the essence, Martin left the property and ran back to the Subaru at an unaccustomedly fast pace. The Subaru was parked three blocks away at a Bally fitness center, where he had initially donned his jogging disguise and made his way into Laura Green’s neighborhood. If he decided to enter the house, he would need his pick gun, which meant that he would have to decide how he was going to reapproach the Green home. He could continue in his present disguise, or he could switch to another.
In addition to his jogging paraphernalia, Martin owned a Northeast Utilities uniform, a mixture of store-bought pants matching those worn by the utility workers, a blue cap, and an actual NU work jacket, left behind by workers at a job site about seven years ago. Martin had seen the jacket slung over a set of flashing barricades one evening on his way home, and had immediately recognized its value. Though he wore it infrequently, he currently had two clients (including the Pearls) whose homes were more exposed to their neighbors than most, and he made a point of donning this costume from time to time before approaching these locations.
After a moment of consideration, Martin decided to keep with his original uniform, concerned about the suspicion he might arouse if one of Laura Green’s neighbors had already seen him jogging in the neighborhood.
Better to remain consistent.
Less than ten minutes later, a breathless Martin was reap-proaching the Green home for the third time, now paying careful attention to the neighbors’ homes as he closed in. If he saw a face in a window or anyone outside one of their homes, he would abort the mission immediately.
There are moments in life when a person cannot believe what he or she is about to say or do, but for one as measured and methodical as Martin, this might have been the first time in his life that he’d had such an experience. As he jogged back down the hill toward Laura Green’s home, closing in on the moment of truth, he was momentarily stunned by the reality of his current situation. He was about to enter the unmapped home of an unknown woman in order to gather information that would help him execute a plan that was outlandish at best. He was risking his safety and his freedom for a woman he had never actually met. Despite all this, he knew with certainty that his actions were right and just. Justine Ashley needed his help, and there was no one else with the skill, knowledge, or ability to come to her aid. He was meant to be her savior. That single rose, a gift from Alan Clayton to his wife, had confirmed it. His success with the Claytons had signaled to Martin that there were times when his considerable skills could be used for good, and that the affection he had begun to feel for his clients was not as ridiculous or purposeless as it might have previously seemed.
Boldness was what Martin believed had saved him in the Clayton home, and so boldness was what he decided upon as a course of action today. Without slowing at all or assuming the pretense of a lost dog, Martin turned up the Green driveway once again, this time ascending the three concrete steps to the side door. Though the front door was slightly less exposed to the neighbors’ homes, Martin knew that the locks on side doors were consistently less complex and therefore easier to pick. Also, homeowners tended to lock, dead-bolt, and even chain their front doors but leave their side doors and other frequently used entrances relatively unprotected. In this case speed was critical, considering his exposed position. Martin did not want to run into a tricky dead bolt or multiple locks.
Pick gun already in hand (having pulled it from his waistband like a gunslinger), Martin opened the screen door and began to work on the lock. Though the door was equipped with a dead bolt, it had not been engaged, and Martin successfully unlocked the door