strained to hear anything else. Dogs were a good alarm system. The dog could have been barking at a stray cat. Then again, it could be barking at someone walking through the neighborhood. Someone who wasn't supposed to be there.
A couple of minutes later, Tony thought he saw a shadow moving across the street at the very edge of the view afforded by his front window. He stayed very still and waited, and sure enough, part of the shadows moved against the darker shadows created by shrubs and hedges and parked cars.
Somebody was across the street, moving slowly and quietly through the night.
There's a way a professional enforcer moves. Someone like Carter, even though he was big and muscular, still walked with self-confident grace. A fluidity and ease of motion that comes from long years of being the top dog in any room. Even though the shadow across the street moved slowly, Tony thought he saw the same kind of fluidity and grace.
This wasn't some homeless guy stumbling down an unfamiliar neighborhood. It wasn't a drunken husband shuffling home after too much beer.
No, this was someone deliberate. Someone who was exactly where he wanted to be.
Watching Tony's house from the shadows across the street.
Tony stayed where he was. It did no good to start shooting at shadows, not in a neighborhood this quiet. So Tony watched the watcher.
The guy stopped walking and stood still for a long time. If Tony hadn't seen him moving a minute ago, he wouldn't have spotted him now. The guy just blended too well with the shadowy street.
Tony almost stopped blinking, intent on not losing sight of the guy. If the guy came across the street and got close to their front yard, Tony would have to rethink his decision about not shooting first. He didn't want to get caught flat footed and a split second too late in reacting, like his uncle did when shooters came through the restaurant doors.
But the guy didn't come close to the house. He stood in the shadows, unmoving, for a good five minutes. When he finally did move, it was to back away.
Tony got up from his chair and approached his front window at an angle, both so the watcher wouldn't see him and so he could see where the guy was going. He watched the guy walk to the end of the street, where he was illuminated beneath a street lamp. The guy was too far away for Tony to get a good look at his face, but he could tell the guy wasn't a bodybuilder like Carter. He was average. Average height, average build, average dark hair of average length, and wearing a dark jacket and blue jeans. If the guy had a gun, it was tucked in the waistband of his jeans at the hollow of his back. Tony didn't see a gun in the guy's hand.
Was he being paranoid? Making up shit about a guy who what -- got mixed up where he was supposed to be?
Tony didn't think so.
This guy had been sent to check them out. Maybe to take them out, but for some reason, he'd gone away tonight instead.
Tony wasn't sure he'd recognize the guy in daylight. All he really knew was that the guy wasn't Carter's size and he had dark hair. Not that there were many people Carter's size.
At least now they knew. Luciano had sent an enforcer to take care of them.
And he could be any one of a hundred average looking guys they saw every day, and they'd never know it was him until it was too late.
Chapter Four
The next morning when she came into work, Julie handed Tony an envelope.
"Where'd you get this?" Tony asked. The envelope was plain white, business size, with his name typed on the front in some old style typewriter print.
"It was in my mailbox this morning." She bit down on her lower lip and looked at Tony like she was wondering if she'd done something wrong. "I check for the mail before I leave for work, kind of a habit, and the only thing inside was this envelope."
Tony turned the envelope over. It was sealed, no writing on the back.
"I didn't look inside," Julie said, her words rushed. "I mean, if that's what you're wondering.
A couple of minutes later, Tony thought he saw a shadow moving across the street at the very edge of the view afforded by his front window. He stayed very still and waited, and sure enough, part of the shadows moved against the darker shadows created by shrubs and hedges and parked cars.
Somebody was across the street, moving slowly and quietly through the night.
There's a way a professional enforcer moves. Someone like Carter, even though he was big and muscular, still walked with self-confident grace. A fluidity and ease of motion that comes from long years of being the top dog in any room. Even though the shadow across the street moved slowly, Tony thought he saw the same kind of fluidity and grace.
This wasn't some homeless guy stumbling down an unfamiliar neighborhood. It wasn't a drunken husband shuffling home after too much beer.
No, this was someone deliberate. Someone who was exactly where he wanted to be.
Watching Tony's house from the shadows across the street.
Tony stayed where he was. It did no good to start shooting at shadows, not in a neighborhood this quiet. So Tony watched the watcher.
The guy stopped walking and stood still for a long time. If Tony hadn't seen him moving a minute ago, he wouldn't have spotted him now. The guy just blended too well with the shadowy street.
Tony almost stopped blinking, intent on not losing sight of the guy. If the guy came across the street and got close to their front yard, Tony would have to rethink his decision about not shooting first. He didn't want to get caught flat footed and a split second too late in reacting, like his uncle did when shooters came through the restaurant doors.
But the guy didn't come close to the house. He stood in the shadows, unmoving, for a good five minutes. When he finally did move, it was to back away.
Tony got up from his chair and approached his front window at an angle, both so the watcher wouldn't see him and so he could see where the guy was going. He watched the guy walk to the end of the street, where he was illuminated beneath a street lamp. The guy was too far away for Tony to get a good look at his face, but he could tell the guy wasn't a bodybuilder like Carter. He was average. Average height, average build, average dark hair of average length, and wearing a dark jacket and blue jeans. If the guy had a gun, it was tucked in the waistband of his jeans at the hollow of his back. Tony didn't see a gun in the guy's hand.
Was he being paranoid? Making up shit about a guy who what -- got mixed up where he was supposed to be?
Tony didn't think so.
This guy had been sent to check them out. Maybe to take them out, but for some reason, he'd gone away tonight instead.
Tony wasn't sure he'd recognize the guy in daylight. All he really knew was that the guy wasn't Carter's size and he had dark hair. Not that there were many people Carter's size.
At least now they knew. Luciano had sent an enforcer to take care of them.
And he could be any one of a hundred average looking guys they saw every day, and they'd never know it was him until it was too late.
Chapter Four
The next morning when she came into work, Julie handed Tony an envelope.
"Where'd you get this?" Tony asked. The envelope was plain white, business size, with his name typed on the front in some old style typewriter print.
"It was in my mailbox this morning." She bit down on her lower lip and looked at Tony like she was wondering if she'd done something wrong. "I check for the mail before I leave for work, kind of a habit, and the only thing inside was this envelope."
Tony turned the envelope over. It was sealed, no writing on the back.
"I didn't look inside," Julie said, her words rushed. "I mean, if that's what you're wondering.
Similar Books
THE VICTORY DANCE
Mahogany SilverRain
Inertia (Gravity Series, 3.5) (The Gravity Series)
Abigail Boyd
Owned And Owner
Anneke Jacob
Runaway Love
Nicole W. Lee
The Crippled Angel
Sara Douglass
Any Human Heart
William Boyd
Winters Heat (Titan)
Cristin Harber
Under the Highlander's Spell
Donna Fletcher
Promissory Payback
Laurel Dewey
Summer
Eden Maguire