Gunning For Vengeance by Pawlish Renee

Author:Pawlish, Renee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2023-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Jo drove by her hotel and didn’t see any sign of Tank, so headed toward the address. Tank—if he was the owner of the F-150—lived in an established neighborhood with older houses, and his small ranch-style was in need of paint. A couple of vehicles were parked in driveways down the street, and some lights winked on in houses. It was dinner time, and people were inside. No sign of the gray sedan that Tank had been driving earlier.

She drove through the neighborhood, confirming that the vehicle wasn’t on another street. Then she parked a couple of blocks over on a busy street, left the Escape, and walked back to Tank’s house, which was like many in the area, with a covered front porch that shielded her from view. He didn’t answer, and listening, she heard only sounds from a neighboring house whose kitchen window was open, voices murmuring. She looked at the knob on Tank’s door. Some scratches on the metal. She couldn’t tell for certain, but it might’ve been tampered with.

Jo stepped off the porch and went around the side of the house, peeked in a window to a small kitchen, and didn’t see anyone. A detached garage sat behind the house. Jo checked, but it was locked tight, with no windows. She went to the back door. It was locked as well; however, a back window was open. No noise emanated from the house, so she quickly pulled out her knife and cut the window screen, pushed the sash higher, and climbed inside. In the shadows of a small den sat an old loveseat, a cheap desk, and a large gun safe with fishing rods leaning against it. A small table by the door held mail, random pieces of paper, and some cash and coins. She picked up the mail. Junk, and a letter from an accounting firm. Putting it back, she moved through the doorway into a kitchen.

Tank wasn’t very neat—he had left dishes in the sink and an empty take-out container on the counter, along with several empty beer cans. A cupboard under the sink was partially open, with an over-full trash can poking out. She dug around empty TV dinner containers, soda and beer cans, and some empty canned meals. Not a fun job, and nothing to show for it. No clue as to where Tank might be.

She passed a small living room and then checked two bedrooms at the other end of the house. The spare room was sparse, just an unmade twin bed and an empty closet and dresser. The master had a queen-size bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. Tank liked jeans and T-shirts; he didn’t have a single suit or tie in his possession. There was little else in the bedroom to tell her about him. The bathroom was as she’d expected—not very clean—so she headed back to the living room.

A matching couch to the loveseat, a TV on a cheap stand, and an antique lawyer’s bookcase in a corner.

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