Undercurrent_A P.I. Munro Crane Romantic Suspense Thriller by Louise Rose-Innes

Undercurrent_A P.I. Munro Crane Romantic Suspense Thriller by Louise Rose-Innes

Author:Louise Rose-Innes [Rose-Innes, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-11T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY

Armed with a flashlight and wearing gloves, Crane left his bungalow, avoided the footpath, and slunk through the dense trees around the crescent lake towards the house.

The rain had stopped, thank goodness, but it left everything damp and muddy. He’d have to be careful not to slip on the mulchy mix of dead and rotting leaves.

Normally, he loved being outside after the rain. If he was at home right now, he’d be sitting on his patio with a cup of coffee, Blaster and Spirit at his feet, listing to the dripping leaves and inhaling the lush, pungent smell of sodden foliage.

He hoped the dogs were okay without him. A neighbour had promised to pop round every day and put food out, and they knew how to enter the cabin through the trap door underneath. Even so, he’d go back in the morning to check on them. Tomorrow was Sunday, so presumably he’d get the day off.

The trees whispered secretively as he carved his way around their dark trunks, as if they were warning him to stay away. No harm in taking a look, he thought.

He glanced at the luminous dials on his wrist watch. Eleven o’clock. By his calculations, Peter would have returned to his cabin fifteen minutes ago, via the footpath, and wouldn’t emerge for another hour. The weakness in the night-time security guard’s schedule was it never changed. It was predictable. Peter was a sucker for routine. Crane had sussed it out within the first few nights of being here. Two-hourly patrols. Forty-five minutes each. Plenty of time.

He wore a balaclava over his head and dark clothing and footwear. Nothing to identify himself should the cameras pick him up. The moon was a thin sliver, barely large enough to shed any light on the moist ground, thereby giving him more protection.

He circled the house, sticking to the trees. Now he had to cross the edge of the carpark and risk the hidden cameras picking him up. The security light along this side of the house was out. He’d made sure by smashing the bulb with a stone earlier that afternoon, and by the looks of things they hadn’t got round to replacing it yet. Another weakness of the security system was if he stood directly behind the light, the camera couldn’t pick him up either as both were positioned next to each other under the eaves.

The rain had dampened the gravel so it didn’t crunch too loudly under his feet as he ran across it and flattened himself against the garage wall. No light went on, and no alarm sounded. So far, so good.

He reached the control room, behind the dual garage, exactly twenty minutes after he’d set out. There was the keypad he’d observed earlier, attached to the wall beside a heavy, metal door.

Now for his next trick. He took a small aerosol can out of his pocket and gave the keypad a good spray. This would react with oils in the skin and show up the keys that were frequently pressed.



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