Page 83 of Rex

“I’m running parallel to you, Vex. Next street over. If he hits a large parking lot, we can pit maneuver him if we can get close enough,” Chubs states.

“We have to be safe, guys. We can’t be the ones taking out civilians. Back off if you need to. We know who we’re looking for now, so he can’t hide forever,” I advise, even though I hate saying the words.

“Dispatch is reporting a high-speed chase or street racing in your area. Cops will be coming that way and soon,” Livi says.

“We need to back off. He’s going to kill someone,” Vex says in a disgusted voice.

“We have Reeves and Horse at the house we think he’s staying at. Maybe he’ll show there,” I reply. “We’ll head back to the house just in case.”

“What’s the address? I’m coming too,” Cash asks.

I say the address and know without asking that more than Cash will be following us there.

While sitting on the house, I called Ivy and got all the information she knew about Dale. I left Candy’s car and jogged to where Reeves and Horse were in the van. Climbing in the back, I used the computer to find information on Dale Henry. I got a home address and also found out the house we are sitting on belongs to an older lady named Gwen Cartier. I’m not sure if the license plate he’s using is stolen or if he knows this lady, but I’ll dig until I do know.

Candy agrees to take Aria to Les’s house, even though Aria argued about staying. I also told Pigeon to take Ivy home and that we have things covered. Ivy gets up before the ass crack of dawn every day to take care of the ranch and doesn’t need to be chasing stalkers all over the city this late at night. Pigeon agrees and says that he and Marti would open the business in the morning and not to rush in if we’re out much later.

Cash and Chubs leave to check out Dale’s home address but report back that there’s no sign of the car or anyone being home. They stay to keep an eye on it, though. I continue my search of all things Dale and come up with his mother’s address. Vex and Freddy, who’s shown up to help, go to that address. Again, no car or movement within the house. That’s not surprising,considering that it’s getting pretty late at night, but they decide to stay for a while.

It's not long, and I discover that Dale’s mother’s maiden name is Cartier so Gwen must be an aunt or some other close relative. It takes some time, but I hack into one of the neighbor’s security cameras and only find Dale coming and going from the house. Going back to a few weeks before today, I finally see a video of a middle-aged lady leaving the house, walking to the garage, and leaving in the car Dale is now driving. Uneasily, I realize this woman hasn’t been caught on video since that day. I decide I need to creep up to the house and see if I can spot anyone inside.

Knowing where the cameras are helps guide me to the side of her house without setting off any motion lights. Raising up on my toes, I peek through what is most likely a bedroom window. The house is dark inside with no lights anywhere that I can see. That’s unusual because most everyone has a nightlight somewhere, usually a bathroom. Especially older people. I move to the next window and have the same result. Nothing. I continue around the corner of the house, now on the backside, and can tell the window I’m looking into this time is the bathroom. I can only see this because of a streetlight that shines on it. I move around to the other side and strain my eyes to see something through the window.

While it’s dark, I can see something light pressed against the glass. Studying it, I realize it’s a light-colored curtain, and I almost dismiss it as nothing. Something tickles the back of my mind, and I keep looking at it. The curtain on the right side of the window isn’t pushed up tight to it like the one on the left. Something is holding it against the glass. Curious, I test the window by pushing up on the bottom half, and it moves. Not enough to open it, but it has some give. Probably an old window,and it doesn’t close as tight as it once did. I push up again, and whatever is against the window shifts slightly. I step back and text Horse.

Me: I need something to open an older style window quietly. I’m on the far side of the house.

Horse: Be right there.

As big as he is, Horse knows how to move silently because I don’t hear him until he taps me on the shoulder. I jerk in surprise and see his white smile gleaming at me when I turn to him. Taking the slim jim out of his hand, I slide it between the window frames, top and bottom, and try to unlatch the lock. I tried several times without success. Horse has the same result as me after several attempts too.

“Might be easier to just shove up until that old lock breaks,” Horse suggests.

“I agree, but we have to be quiet about it,” I answer. “Hopefully, nobody is home, and we don’t get shot.”

Standing side by side, we both grip the lower window and start pushing upward. The thing against the window shifts again, but we continue until the lock stops our progress.

“Harder,” I whisper, and we both push with all we have.

The lock breaks, and the window slides open with barely a sound. We don’t have time to celebrate because the item that had been leaning against the window flops onto the windowsill, yanking the curtain down with it. It takes my brain a couple of long seconds to realize what is now within inches of mine and Horse’s faces, right between ours. When it does, I boltbackwards so fast I land on my ass. Horse steps on me in his haste to back away, and it sends him down too. Sitting side by side, we look at each other in shock.

“Holy fucking no,” Horse whispers in a horrified voice.

“What the fuck!” I say at the same time.

The item now flopped onto the windowsill is a woman, eyes and mouth open, facial skin distorted from slippage, death mask in place. I slowly stand up and look again and then back away fast. The smell coming from the open window is the foulest thing ever. Horse gets to his feet and covers his nose and mouth with his hoodie. I quickly follow his lead and cover mine too.

“What the fuck do we do now?” I ask, more to myself than Horse.

“Leave! I suggest leaving immediately. In fact, that’s what I’m going to do. You decide for yourself,” Horse says before he disappears around the corner of the house.

I start to follow him, then backtrack and use my sleeve to wipe our prints off everything we touched. This included me having to lean over the lady to pull the window down far enough to achieve my task. Gagging from the smell of decomp, I decide I’ve eliminated our presence, and it’s time to get the fuck gone.

I make my way back to the van and climb in the back. I’m not even seated yet, and Reeves drives away. Horse is sitting up front, silent as I’ve ever seen him, except for the occasional gagging sounds that erupt from him.

“If you fucking puke in here, you’re cleaning it up, asshat,” Reeves mutters.

“She almost hit me in the face,” Horse moans before gagging again.

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