The Secret Target by Dean Atwood

Author:Dean Atwood [Atwood, Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Q uinton parked in his reserved space at the townhouse complex. After getting out of his SUV and locking the doors, he took a moment to admire his Honda Pilot. It was relatively new and fully loaded. He’d been proud of it — until Blaire had shown him the Bugatti Chiron in Jeremy’s garage. It had reminded him that the rich and famous live by different standards than the rest of us. It was inevitable that some of the have nots in the world, like Jeremy, would take shortcuts to become one of the haves. As for QT, he wasn’t overly materialistic, but he would’ve loved to have taken that Bugatti for a spin.

Quinton had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. He turned his head in a quick jerking motion and looked across the street. Lieutenant Mad was sitting at a table. He smiled when he saw her trying to be inconspicuous by hiding under her trademark UVA cap.

Realizing she’d been made, she got up from the table and walked toward the row of townhouses. QT watched her as she crossed the street. Even in her unfeminine clothes and marginal state of cleanliness, she was stunning.

“Lieutenant Mad, what has you concerned enough to move up our meeting time?”

She nervously looked up and down the road she’d just crossed and said, “I’d rather not talk about it out here. Somebody could have a long-range microphone pointed at us.”

QT looked along the street. He didn’t see a surveillance van, but he wasn’t about to dismiss her comments as being irrational. He’d ignored her morning warning and that hadn’t turned out very well. “I don’t see anything suspicious, but by all means, let’s go inside. It’s this way,” he said and pointed in the direction of his townhouse.

“Yes, I know.”

“Of course, you do,” he responded and meant it.

When they arrived at his unit, Quinton paused and looked at the top edge of the door before inserting his key in the lock.

“It wouldn’t fool a professional,” Lieutenant Mad said.

“What?”

“The piece of scotch tape you stuck between the door and the jamb to alert you if somebody entered your townhouse while you were gone. A professional would remove it before they entered and replaced it when they left.”

“That’s true, I wouldn’t know if someone had come and gone, but at least I’d know whether somebody was in there, waiting for me with a piece of tape in their pocket.”

“You’re getting as paranoid as me.”

He smiled and said, “Not yet.”

Quinton flipped the switch to turn on the kitchen lights. The white cabinets, quartz countertops, and light gray backsplash gave the room an airy feel. There were no dirty dishes left out or any other signs of untidiness.

“Are you or Blondie the neat freak?”

“I suppose both of us to a certain extent.”

The kitchen led to the living room, where QT switched on more lights. There were three inside doors visible from the living room. One led to a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, another to an office with a desk that had a laptop resting on it, and the third to a laundry room.

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