The time stamp was 11:27 a.m. Saturday.
Bingo.
Eagerly, Nick moved on to the next video. It and the next four were more of Alistair and Danny painting. After that, there was nothing for a few hours until Danny stepped outside and met up with a small group of men on the sidewalk.
“That’s our walking group,” Danny explained. “Three nights a week, we take turns getting some of our heftier neighbors off the couch and outside for some fresh air.”
The next several videos were from the same day. Cars entering and exiting the lot. The walking group returning from their jaunt. Two food deliveries. Mr. Pickles was in the front window for all of it.
Until finally, Nick hit pay dirt.
Night had fallen. The cat was no longer surveying the neighborhood from the window when a figure dressed in dark clothes climbed the steps to Larry’s place. The figure dug into their pocket and a moment later let themselves into the house.
“Al, we found something,” Danny said in a hushed tone.
Both men peered over Nick’s shoulder as he scrolled to the next notification.
“That’s definitely not Larry,” Alistair observed.
Nick agreed. The figure was a good six inches shorter and significantly less round. “Do you recognize that guy?” he asked them.
They both shrugged. “Are we sure it’s a guy?” Danny asked.
“Look at the way he walks. He’s not very big. But that’s definitely a man,” Alistair said with confidence. “He’s walking like he’s trying to disguise his walk.”
“You teach guys to walk?” Nick asked.
“You’d be amazed at what the right walk does for a man’s confidence,” Danny insisted.
“How do you know if you’re walking wrong?” Nick asked.
“You don’t until we tell you. Don’t worry. We’ll make you strut the catwalk before you leave,” Alistair told him.
The next video cued up, and they watched as the same dark figure stepped out of the house with his arms full.
“What’s he carrying?” Danny asked, leaning further over Nick’s shoulder.
“It’s got cords hanging off it,” Alistair pointed out.
The figure disappeared off-screen and returned minutes later to do the same thing.
“So Larry goes out for a run. Later that night, a different guy shows up, unlocks the door, and helps himself to some electronics,” Danny summarized.
The figure returned again and disappeared into the house. When he reappeared on the stoop, he was carrying a large box by a handle on top.
“Oh my God. Is that—”
“Mr. Pickles. Our man in black just took Larry’s cat,” Nick said.
19
10:43 a.m., Sunday, August 16
Bianca Hornberger was an asshole.
There were no two ways about it. After spending two hours watching 4evaYoungBitchez videos, Riley was convinced the woman was Satan and had been called back to hell for a management emergency.
Bianca’s advice on living one’s best life was limited to: Marry rich. And lead your man around by his testicles.
