Cassie Clark by Brian Falkner

Author:Brian Falkner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: OneTree House Publishers
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

House Arrest

Again we avoid turning into Stamp’s little private cul-de-sac. Jackson parks on the main road, close to a two-storey stone-brick house, so that it will look as though our car belongs to that house. He leaves the engine running for the air-con.

We observe Stamp’s house for a while. Looking for movement inside. Looking for any indication that the house is occupied. There is none.

“I’m going inside,” I say.

“You’ve seen the fence?” Jackson asks. A high razor-wire security fence surrounds Stamp’s property.

“Obstacles are what you see when you take your eyes off your goal,” I say.

“Well that’s a perfectly reasonable response under the circumstances,” he says.

I smile and open the door. I take my handbag and use the shoulder straps to turn it into a makeshift backpack.

The heat hits me immediately. It’s worse than before. Worse than at Yuma.

This deep in the desert the sun is brutal and the air is still. I am sweating before I have shut the car door. I head towards Stamp’s street feeling more than a little nervous.

I take out my phone and plug in my earphones, inserting one, but tucking the other into the collar of my teeshirt. I ring Jackson.

“How’s it looking?” I ask.

“How’s what looking?” he asks. “Your ass? That’s looking real fine.”

“Leave my ass out of it,” I say. “I thought you were gay.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t admire perfection when I see it,” he says.

“Get your eyes off my perfect ass and back on the road,” I say. “And don’t sit in the front seat. Climb over into the back.

“Why?” he asks.

“Otherwise anyone who drives past might wonder what you’re doing sitting in a parked car all the way out here.”

“They’ll still wonder,” he says. “They’ll just wonder what I’m doing in the back seat. They’ll probably think I’m some kind of pervert.”

“They won’t even see you,” I say. “I… read it in a spy novel. When people glance at a car they only really look at the driver’s seat, and if that is empty, they assume the car is empty.”

“I still think it’s a bit weird,” he says.

“You think you’re a robot. How could it get any weirder?” I ask.

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” he says. “See you back in San Diego.”

“It’ll be a boring trip back without me,” I say.

“That’s true,” he says. “Life would be boring without you, relaxing and pleasant, but boring.”

“Be careful,” I say, “Or I might start to think you like me.”

“I do like you,” he says. “Just not that way.”

“I don’t know why,” I say, trying to be self-deprecating. It comes across as a bit needy.

“I’ll tell you why,” he says. “You hide your lack of confidence behind your rich bitch façade. But I see through it. You’re a good person. You just don’t want people to know it.”

I’m flattered, I think, but I don’t reply as I can’t think of a witty response and I’ve reached the high metal fence.

“Now can you see the fence?” Jackson asks, “Or are you still blinded by your goal?”

“Fence? That’s hardly a fence,” I say.

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