Breathe.
Blaize let go of her hand as they walked up the short, cracked concrete walkway to the pair of stairs leading to a block of concrete as a porch. He slipped away, going left. Before she could formulate words to ask what she should do, he disappeared around the corner.
Rather than just stand there, she cut right, half expecting loud, barking dogs to announce their presence. She welcomed the quiet as she searched for cameras in the eaves. If this place was some kind of drug den or human-trafficking site—her imagination was going wild at this point—wouldn’t there be some type of security?
She rounded the corner on the carport side, half holding her breath. The parking space was empty. A bucket filled with cleaning supplies and a container of rags were stacked to one side. A couple of miscellaneous containers and boxes littered the back wall, some empty. Trash clung to one corner.
The place wasn’t worse than many of the others she’d seen in her time at the agency. And it wasn’t the best. She could tell a lot about a person by the way they kept their home. Messy was never automatically bad and meticulous wasn’t always good. Hoarders always raised a red flag to her, especially when it was over the top. It signaled a mental condition that required further evaluation. Overly meticulous people who lived in wealthy neighborhoods abused their children at the same rates as folks with less financial means.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone or something move in the house next door. When she turned to look, the curtain closed before she could tell who it was. A kid spying? A nosy neighbor?
She turned around the next corner, expecting to see Blaize.
He was gone.
Chapter Nineteen
Blaize circled back to the front yard where he’d left Carys. She wasn’t there.
Figuring she must have circled on the carport side, he cut across the small front lawn that was sprinkled with ankle-high weeds. The property had been neglected. Same on the inside of the home, based on what he could see through one of the bedroom windows. Clothes covered old brown carpet. Empty beer and soda cans littered most surfaces. A dresser drawer sat half opened. The others were in various stages of being closed. A shirt looked to have been haphazardly flung toward the piece of bedroom furniture, landing across two drawers.
With an opened, albeit empty, pizza box wedged onto the nightstand, Blaize could only imagine how the room smelled. Or the rest of the house, for that matter. Stale beer and urine came to mind. The occupants didn’t have a dog, thankfully, but he’d seen a cat curled up on top of a messy bed.Poor thing.
As he circled around the home toward the carport, the next-door neighbor popped out of the front door. An average-height woman in her late twenties stepped outside wearing a jean jumper and her hair in a bandana.
“Hey,” Carys whispered as she headed toward him.
The neighbor held the front door open. “Can you come here for a minute?” She glanced around nervously. “I have something to tell you about that house.”
All of his protective instincts flared.
“Would you go wait in the Jeep if I asked you to?” he said to Carys.
“Doesn’t seem to be any safer in it than out here,” she said.
“Good point.” They had just been rammed in the side by an SUV, which had disappeared as fast as it came at them. “Then stick by my side. Okay?” He reached for her hand and linked their fingers.
“Like glue,” she said. “I didn’t see any security cameras over here. I haven’t checked the neighbor’s house.”
“I was on the opposite side,” he said out of the corner of his mouth as they took the first steps toward the stranger.
There was no doubt that he was stronger than the tiny young woman standing on the porch, waving them on. Add Carys to the equation, and the odds that were already nil went into negative numbers.
There were unknowns. Was Bandana alone? Or was someone hiding inside the house, just out of sight? Only half of her body was visible. Was she hiding some type of weapon where they couldn’t see it until it was too late? Would a vehicle come roaring up? One like the SUV?
“Hurry,” Bandana said, shifting her weight back and forth while looking all around them with wide eyes. That word caused more alarm bells. If they hurried, they wouldn’t have time to accurately assess the risks. “It’s not safe out here.”
All hope she would say what was on her mind while standing outside just died. He squeezed Carys’s hand for reassurance the moment she tensed. She clearly had been thinking along the same lines.
“Please,” Bandana urged as they approached the porch.
He tucked Carys behind him as they entered the living room.
Bandana shut the door behind them and locked it. Not exactly ideal, but they stood close enough for him to attack while Carys undid the lock.
“She told me to look out for you,” Bandana said, staring at him. “Said if you came poking around, something bad happened to her.” She brought her hand to cover her mouth as she stared.
The house was clean and cozy. More importantly, he could see straight through to the sliding glass door from his position next to the door.
