“Keep moving. I’ll tell you when you’re close.”
We walk quickly down the dark street. More than half the streetlights are out. The houses are cookie cutter and decades old. A lone dog barks as we pass, cutting through the eerie quiet, and Carson keeps directing us. “Two-hundred feet on your right.”
We cross the street and Grady sighs. “Dammit. I guess being out in the open at one in the morning would be too much to ask for.”
The house is dark except for a dim light coming from somewhere deep inside.
“You want to sit on it for an hour or two? Wait to see if there’s any activity?” Crew asks as he surveys the area.
Two cars are parked on the street and there’s a thin curtain drawn in the single front window. I look up and down the row of houses—we’re tucked in the shadows. I’m not worried about anyone seeing us.
“Look.” Grady’s voice is low.
When I glance back to the house, there’s movement near the front window and so far, we’ve only seen two bodies.
“You call it.” Crew nods to me. “We’ll back you up.”
I look to Grady and raise an eyebrow to see if he’s in.
He shrugs and shakes his head. “Been there, done that. I’m only in if you don’t make a dumbass call.”
I update Carson who’s still on the line and ask, “You got anything more for me?”
“The phone I tracked is a prepaid. No surprise there,” he adds. “All identifying information for the device is in the email I sent you.”
“I’ll let you know what happens,” I say and disconnect, looking back to Grady and Crew. “We split up. You two stick together on one side of the house, I’ll take the other. We’ll wait it out at least an hour. If we get lucky, they’ll leave. If not, as much as I don’t want to have to explain breaking and entering, we’ll kick the door.”
We move to our spots just in time. There’s banging coming from the front and I pause while voices fill the quiet, night air. The door slams and I wait while they make their way down the narrow, cracked driveway. They’re not small—one has seen too many Big Mac’s and the other’s a little above average build.
The one farthest from me puts a cigarette to his lips, cupping his hand around his lighter as he walks and I take the opening. As I shift silently, Crew and Grady materialize at the moment I make my move.
I grab one of them by the wrist and back of his shirt and have him face down in no time. Crew does the same to the guy with the cigarette, and I hear him complain as he burned himself right before he thuds to the grass. I cuff the big guy and after zip tying his feet, I keep my weight on his lower back and pat him down.
I find a switchblade, phone, and wallet. I toss them to Grady, who starts weeding through it. Crew finds a handgun, ID, and phone.
“Which one of you sent pictures to a young girl through Instagram today?” I demand.
“Who the fuck’re you?” Crew’s guy sneers, his face pressed into the grass.
I put more weight into the big guy’s shoulder blades with my boots, making him groan. “Answer me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grunts.
“I don’t get it,” Grady pipes in casually as he takes pictures of their DLs. “It takes a chicken-shit excuse of a man to send warnings to little girls through Instagram. What are you, a thirteen-year-old middle-school bully? Like we can’t track you.”
Fucking Grady. Always a wiseass.
“Who’re you?” Crew’s guy grumbles.
Crew ignores him. “What do you know about an accident where the two kids were killed out in the Plains a few months back?”
The one groans, when Crew presses into him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Check which phone it was,” I say to Grady.
“What’s your password, asswipe?” Grady asks the guy under my foot.
“Fuck you,” he responds.