Concealed Affliction (27 page)

I pass a few homes. By a few I mean five before I see the small hunting store. Right beside it is the food store, and two houses later there’s a small trailer boasting that they sell beer until ten o’clock. Most of the lights are off everywhere and there’s not a soul in sight.

I turn down the next street, heading to where my GPS is informing me to go.

“That’s it, Jay.”

I look to my right, out Jimmy’s window, and note the small little home with the moose head above the door. I continue driving, not wanting to park my vehicle right in front of where I plan to break into.

“We need to find somewhere to park.”

I drive down the road a little further, still not finding anything that’s out in the open. I only notice a few other homes set back in the bushes.

“Look at the GPS. It says there was supposed to be a wildlife lookout over Pike Lake. We would’ve passed it when we turned onto this road.”

I make a u-turn and head back the way we came, passing the rental office now on our left and a lot of forest area to the right. I see the sign for the lookout area and pull in. It looks like it forks into a few different directions for lookout posts. I don’t venture down any of those; I pull my truck in behind a few big evergreen trees and call myself hidden.

“Jimmy, if you want to wait here, you can. I don’t expect you to get caught for a B and E. But I need to do this.”

As I expected, Jimmy’s response is to grab the small array of tools we put in the back seat and get out of the truck. I knew he wouldn’t stay back, but I guess I wanted to keep a clean conscience by giving him the opportunity to back out.

We walk toward the road, both of us glancing left and right, making sure we aren’t seen. I don’t think we would be, being as there isn’t a single street light in the small town. Especially not on this deserted road.

I dressed in my usual black armor. My hair is braided to one side, black hat on. I wore a long hooded black sweater, and my black boots and tights.

Jimmy is similar. Dark jeans, black boots, black sweatshirt. All we’re missing are balaclavas and guns, then we would really fit the B and E dress code.

We walk briskly side by side, crossing the street toward the Cooney’s small office. I noted when we drove past there was no garage, but I plan to check around the back side of the house to confirm there are no vehicles, and nobody present.

We edge along the side of the yard, much like two experienced criminals would do. It amazes me how in sync Jimmy and I are. We don’t speak in words. It’s just familiar body language and comfort from knowing each other so long. It allows us to maneuver around the property like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

I want to say it scares me, but then I think about how we used to finish each other’s sentences. I think about how he eats my olives and I eat his tomatoes. We do it all without asking, because it’s just second nature. We know what the other one is going to do before they do it. That’s why we’re best friends. That’s why we get along so well.

The home is a small bungalow. The carport on the right side of the home is empty and I know from glancing at the outbuilding that it is too small to hold a vehicle. We slowly make our way toward the back of the small board and batten home. Jimmy leads, looking in a few windows, making sure nobody is present.

We maneuver around a few shrubs and come to a higher window, suggesting it’s a bathroom or a bedroom. There’s a small amount of light coming out the window that’s too high for Jimmy to see through. He motions for me to move in front of him and puts his hands around my waist.

I brace my own hands on the wall in front of me before he lifts me up to look in the window.

              “Bathroom, empty,” I softly say to him and he lowers me down.

              We make our way back to the front of the home, careful to stay in the shadows. There’s a door directly on the front of the house, boasting a sign for property purchases and with the giant moose head above it. Jimmy motions for the door that was hidden under the carport and I nod my head.

The first thing I see is the small slip of paper, flapping a little in the wind. It’s closed between the storm door and the main door. I edge closer beside Jimmy and we pull the paper out. ‘Tuck’s Heating’ is written on the top, along with amount of money they owe for having their propane tank filled. I bring it closer to my face and look at the date.

“Three days ago, they’re not here Jimmy.”

“Good news for us.”

Jimmy opens the storm door and we assess the main one. There’s no dead bolt, and there’s enough room to stick a screwdriver alongside the handle lock to get in. He pulls out a putty knife from a small pack of goodies and within three seconds the door is open. I’m not surprised. Security is never huge in these small towns.

I take a step inside, following Jimmy. My nose is immediately assaulted with the scent of cinnamon and old people. My boots squeak on the old linoleum floor as we make our way toward the front of the house where the office is located.

We first pass through the tiny kitchen. There’s a small oak table for four and very cluttered countertops. Every nook and cranny is filled with old lady dust collectors. Porcelain roosters and cow shaped salt and pepper shakers. There are shelves along the upper part of the wall going all the way around the room, continuing into the hallway. Every type of farm animal figurine you can imagine is filling the shelves.

I don’t waste time glancing into the living room on our right, but continue straight to the end of the hallway where the office is located on the left. There’s no door separating it from the rest of the house. Our footsteps become silent as we enter the room with a rust colored carpet.

“Fuck Jay, your mom would’ve had a heart attack in here.”

I give his arm a squeeze, acknowledging he’s very right. My mother spent a lot of time helping to decorate my father’s architectural masterpieces. One look at the wood paneling and rust colored carpet would’ve given her a complex.

“Two filing cabinets, Jimmy. We each take one. ANIG is what we’re looking for on the bill of sale, or a signature with the names I gave you. Shawn Flynn, Andrew Roberts or M. Downey.”

“Got it.”

We each take a cabinet, hoping to get this done quickly. I note they aren’t filed alphabetically but by year of purchase.

“Cabe told me that property was purchased roughly three years ago. That could mean 2012 or possibly 2011. Let’s check those first.”

“Alright, I have 2011.”

We each begin pulling out files, one by one, searching for the appropriate names. Most of the properties sold are hunting cabins, or small trailers near the lake. We’ve been searching for about ten minutes when Jimmy gives me the news I’ve been waiting to hear.

“Got it.”

I drop the files in my hands and take the ones Jimmy thrusts between us.

“Look, purchasing date November 2011. I wouldn’t have recognized the signature. Thank fuck they make you print it too. Shawn Flynn. He signed for it, but the purchase was made through ANIG Tech.”

I flip the pages, looking for the address.

“Lot fifty-three, Pine Point. Where the fuck is Pine Point?”

“I don’t know, Jay. I don’t think we need this. I’ll take a few pictures with my phone, leave the file here.”

“Good call.”

Jimmy flips through the pages, taking photos of each one and a few extras of the survey photo, giving the exact location of the property in Pine Point. We clean up our mess, putting everything back the way it was before exiting the house. We make sure to lock the door behind us and put the propane bill back in the door.

“Are you going to call Cabe?” Jimmy asks as we walk briskly across the road toward where I parked the truck.

“I want to find Pine Point on the GPS before I do. Let’s get back in the truck, I’ll feel more comfortable calling him once we’re on the road.”

Jimmy nods his head and puts his hand on my shoulder, giving a mild squeeze. As much as I’m thankful we found what we were looking for, I want to get the fuck out of this creepy dark little town.

We round the bend and cut across the ditch into the lookout area. The moon is almost full, giving us an easy view of our surroundings as we make our way to the truck. I look down, careful not to trip on anything, but let out a gasp as Jimmy’s hand wraps firmly around my arm, shoving me behind him.

I stumble into his back, his feet now planted firmly on the ground, not moving. I reach out and steady myself on his arms, peeking out in front of him. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I take note of the tall man leaning against the front of my BMW.

He too is dressed in dark jeans with a long sleeve dark shirt. His hair is dark brown, I think, and a few inches long around his masculine face.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jimmy asks in a tone I’ve never heard from him before. It’s low, and a little intimidating.

Both men are about the same size, around six feet tall. Not as wide and defined as Ryder and Denny, but still fit.

“Step away from my truck, asshole.”

The man steps away from my truck, casually, obviously not threatened by us. He takes a few steps forward, still about fifteen feet away from us. He’s not surprised by our presence, probably because he was waiting for us. I don’t recognize him, but something tells me he’s not out for blood as his eyes settle on mine with humor.

“You’re every bit a pain in my ass that they told me you’d be.”

I start to move out from behind the wall that is Jimmy, but he keeps his arm there to hold me back. I look into the man’s eyes, still having no recollection of who he is.

“You know, I’m getting real fucking tired of people talking about me as if they know me.”

I didn’t think any of my statement was funny, but obviously he does because his lips twitch and he shakes his head.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

Oh no he didn’t!

“I guess ‘
they
’ didn’t inform you I hate being referred to as ‘ma’am’. But please, enlighten me on who you are and what that job would be.”

“I work for Callaghan, Elle. I’m Maverick.”

If Jimmy weren’t holding onto me right now, I think my knees may have buckled.

He sent someone after me?

What the hell! I can’t hide the anger in my tone and I don’t bother trying to.

“I left him and everything else behind. Pardon my language, and I’m sorry you got handed this job, but what the fuck?”

Jimmy has relaxed at the mention of Ryder and I move to stand beside him. He throws an arm around my shoulders in silent support, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Maverick.

“I’ve been here for a few days. Cabe called tonight and asked me to follow up on the lead in regard to the property purchase. You beat me to it.”

What. The. Hell.

“Did you follow me from North Carolina?”

He actually looks slightly sheepish before he responds.

“No. I was three hours behind. I tracked your truck.”

I can’t hide the irritation. I step out and away from Jimmy’s arm and move to stand in front of Maverick. He’s quite handsome this close, even with the scar running from his cheekbone down to his jaw.

“Go home, Maverick. I told him I didn’t want anyone here, and I meant it.”

I move past him to the truck, unlocking it as I go.

“Jay.”