The Truth of Yesterday (72 page)
Read The Truth of Yesterday Online
Authors: Josh Aterovis
I began to worry that I'd never make it over the
Once on the
Eastern Shore
side of the bridge, however, the weariness returned with a vengeance. I had to struggle to stay alert enough to follow Micah's directions, which really weren't that difficult. Still, as easy as they were, I almost missed my turn twice and had to backtrack once when I passed the road Black lived on.
When I passed Black's house, I slowed down slightly to get my first look at the place I would have to infiltrate. It was a fortress, and I'm not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that. It was a hulking, gothic structure built of brick and stone with a metal fence surrounding it that stood at least twice as high as I was tall. Security lights were placed at regular intervals around the fence. There was an actual guard booth at the gate, although I didn't see anyone in it as I drove by. The whole place looked like it had been built to withstand an invasion, which come to think of it, maybe it had.
I drove a little further until I came to the cul-de-sac Micah had told me would be there. My headlights swept the wall of trees as I turned around, illuminating the narrow path-calling it a road would be misleading-right where Micah had described. It was just wide enough for me to ease my Mustang into, but tight enough that I had nightmares of scratching my paint job. I pulled in as far as I could get it, although I wasn't sure if it would be enough room for Micah's car or not. As soon as I turned off the car, I popped the trunk and I was slipping out the door. I had to slither sideways out the small opening since a tree was too close to the driver's side door to open it very wide.
I lifted the trunk and quickly rummaged through the assorted junk that had built up in there-roller blades, a sandy blanket from an impromptu beach picnic Micah and I had gone on a few months ago, jumper cables that Adam insisted I have with me at all times, a lightweight doohickey that plugged into the cigarette lighter designed to inflate your tires and flash a warning light at the same time. Somewhere in here, I knew I had a plastic bag containing a black shirt, black pants, gloves, and a black skull cap. Novak called it the cat burglar ensemble. He said every good investigator needed to keep one handy in case of emergencies. He'd never expounded on what constituted an emergency, but I figured this qualified. I quickly changed into the commando outfit, shut the trunk, and started back towards the house. I had no intention of waiting for Micah. I had to do this on my own.
I moved quickly through the shadows, staying just inside the line of trees. It didn't take long to reach the corner of the fence that protected the Black estate. Micah had said it was electrified and I wasn't about to test it. I crossed to the opposite side of the road to stay under the cover of the trees and made my way to the gate. I watched the gate for a few minutes. There was no sign of anyone in the guard booth. I saw at least one camera mounted to the side of the booth, pointed at the drive. I thought I could get closer to the booth and avoid the camera pretty easily, assuming it was the only one, of course.
I darted across the road again, staying as low to the ground as possible, my heart pounding in my chest. With the rush of adrenaline
courseing
through my system, my earlier fatigue was all but forgotten. I crouched under the window of the guard booth for a few seconds. Surely, if there was anyone inside
they
would hear my heart beating. It sounded as loud as a bass drum to my ears. I slowly eased up until I could see into the booth. Empty, although the lights were on, clearly showing the controls to open the gate. I wondered if activating the gate caused any alarm in the house. Even if it didn't, how was I going to get into the booth to push the button in the first place? The only entrance was on the wrong side of the fence and the glass I was looking through was undoubtedly bullet proof. It was certainly thick enough to withstand anything except maybe an atomic blast.
I edged my way to the corner of the booth and peered around at the gate. To my surprise, I realized that it wasn't closed all the way. It was open by what looked to be a little less than 12 inches. It wasn't much, but for once being small might be to my advantage. Then again, how was I to know it wasn't a trap of some sort? Maybe Black or his security team had spotted me skulking around and decided to lure the mouse into the trap before killing it. Cats like to play with their prey after all.
I was standing there fretting about what to do when I heard the distant sound of an approaching vehicle. I glanced down at my watch; it was just about time for Micah to be arriving. I had to move quickly, in just a few seconds I would be fully caught in the headlights of the oncoming car. Should I run back to the security of the trees or risk going within the gates? I stood indecisively until the headlights began to light up the trees at the last corner before I would be in plain view of the driver. I made my decision and dove towards the gate. It was a tight fit, and there was a moment of panic when the button of my jeans snagged, but I managed to pop through and throw myself behind a nearby shrub, just as the car zoomed by. I thought it had looked like Micah's car in the brief glimpse I had caught before I hit the ground, but I wasn't positive. If it was, I knew I had to move fast now.
I quickly began to weave my way across the seemingly endless expanse of lawn, moving in a crouched run from tree to bush. It was scanty cover at best, but it made me feel better if nothing else. I finally reached the house and I sat panting for a moment with my back to the cool brick wall. The breathlessness was as much from fear as being winded from the run. I tried to calm myself down. I couldn't afford to make any mistakes now. My life, and possibly Jake's, depended on me having all my wits about me. Unfortunately, they seemed to have scattered.
I finally got my breathing under control and I was on the move again. I had no idea what the best way to get into the house would be. I was sure he must have some sort of security system, an alarm at least, wired to all the windows. I'd never broken into a house before so I wasn't even sure I would know how to get a locked window open without simply breaking it. I had been lucky with the gate, assuming it was luck and not stupidity; I couldn't count on being lucky with an unlocked, unprotected window. I half-crawled, half ran towards the back of the house. I needed a better idea of what I was up against. The front of the house was definitely out of the question. The front door was lit up as if it was broad daylight. I couldn't just march up to the door and knock.
To my relief, the back of the house was not as well lit. Pools of inky darkness collected between
security
lights spaced too far apart. After a few seconds of study, I decided that the attached garage offered me my best opportunity to gain entrance to the house. People often forgot to lock the door to the garage, or so I reasoned with myself. Getting to the door would involve a race through one of the well-lighted areas, however. I didn't have a choice. With my heart in my throat, I made a mad dash through the light, feeling as if I was in a spotlight. I flattened myself against the wall next to the garage door and wondered if I was being watched this whole time. I could picture the security guards inside watching me on closed-circuit televisions, laughing as I
zigged
and
zagged
my way across the property, knowing they could snuff me out whenever the tired of the game. I took a deep breath, grabbed the door knob, and twisted. It opened. I stared dumbly at the open door for a moment, too surprised to walk through. This was too easy. I was becoming uneasy. I inched through the door into the dark interior, the only light was what spilled in from outside. I made out two cars and a space for a third. Both vehicles looked to be brand new, expensive models. I found the door to the house and cautiously made my way to it, being extra careful not to bump into anything in the gloom.
I paused at the door. The way things had been going, I wasn't sure whether I should wish for it be locked or unlocked. If it was locked, I'd have to find another means of entry.
Unless, of course, someone had conveniently left a key under the mat.
If it was unlocked, I wasn't sure if I could pass that off to incredibly good fortune. Then I realized that I had come too far to chicken out now. If it was a trap, I was well within their reach. If it wasn't, then I was quite simply, the luckiest guy on the face the earth. I would have to follow this investigation with a trip to
Atlantic City
. I turned the doorknob and I heard the tell-tale click. It was unlocked.
I held the door closed for a few seconds while I collected myself. Assuming that this had all been some sort of amazing coincidence, which I was desperately trying to assume, I was now faced with what could be the trickiest part of the operation. I had to find my way through a strange house that was easily the size of a small hotel, locate Jake, talk to him when he had made it quite clear at our last meeting that he didn't want to talk to me, and get him out of here...all without running into another soul.
Easy as pie
, I told myself.
I pushed open the door and slipped quickly inside, closing the door behind me. I was immediately struck by the utter stillness of the house. It felt eerily like a tomb. I stood as still as a statue listening for a noise, any noise, but there was only complete and total silence. Of course, as big as this place was, they could be having a party on the third floor complete with live music provided by
Metallica
and I wouldn't know it. I took stock of my surroundings. The door from the garage had opened into a rather large laundry room that I was pretty certain Fenton Black never used, at least not personally. Another door stood open, leading to what looked like a hallway. There were no lights on anywhere as far as I could see.
I walked slowly down the hall, stopping every few feet to listen. I passed several closed doors, but there was no light showing at the floor and no sounds from within. The hallway ended at a large dining room. Doors opened off of the dining room to the right and the left. I figured the door to the right opened into the kitchen, where a dim light burned. The door to the left, I assumed, led to the rest of the house. I thought it would be wise to check the kitchen before moving on. I crept up to the door and peeked in. I froze as my heart leapt into my throat again. A large man sat at the table with his back to me, backlit by a low-wattage light over the range oven. I was afraid to move for fear he'd hear me and turn around. Suddenly I realized that he was unnaturally still. Was he listening for me to move before spinning around and shooting?
We both remained motionless. It began to remind me of the game we used to play as children where you all try to go the longest without moving or speaking. I hoped the name of the game wouldn't turn out to be a portent-it had been called graveyard. I stayed locked in position until I couldn't stand it any longer. The man at the table still hadn't moved. No one was that good at the game. I took a hesitant step into the room. When he still didn't move, I took another. And then another, until I was within a few feet of the man. My feet stuck unpleasantly to the floor, as if something had been spilled. I moved around beside him and felt the air rush out of me as I began to tremble. A perfect
hole
the size of a dime punctuated his forehead, a tiny trickle of blood ran down his face. If it was a mob-style hit we were looking for, I had just found it.
Chapter 30
