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A nearly invisible fishing line ran from one corner of the picture to the floor and through the open window.

The Keeper had attached the photograph to the outside screen.

He eased the window open just far enough to slip the photograph inside...

And then he got the hell out of there.

The entire thing had taken seconds.

Max had heard the metal scrape against the frame.

Without him, we might not have found the photograph until morning.

“He planned this,” Judy said.

She stood near the window, wearing gloves. Will photographed the line, window, metal strip, and every surface around them.

“He knew which room we used when we stayed here,” Trigger said.

Trigger looked at him.

Rylie remained near the door.

Max pressed against her leg.

Trigger looked at the photograph of himself and his wife sleeping.

“How long has he been watching our house?”

“We don’t know,” Judy said.

Trigger turned toward her.

“You say that a lot.”

“Because guessing would be worse.”

“I need answers.”

“So do I.”

Rylie touched his arm.

He pulled her against him.

Max remained between them and the window.

I crouched beside the sill.

The fishing line ran several feet outside before disappearing into the darkness.

“He might still be on the roof across the street watching us,” I said.

Wolf was already moving.

“Havoc, Blaze, with me. Saint, cameras. Ace, front entrance.”

I looked at Max.