Smoke and Mirrors

54

Later that night, after following the Yukon to the sheriff’s house and seeing that it had parked a block away, Styer shut off the van and got ready to approach the house on foot. In the driveway, parked near the sheriff’s truck, were a Jeep and the Dodge the woman-Alexa Keen-had been driving-both rentals with Tennessee plates. Massey and Keen formed a nice round variable to roll around in his mind.

A single light burned in a downstairs corner room in the rear, most likely the master bedroom where the sheriff would be sleeping. He based his assumption on the fact that the window in the room beside that one was smaller, so it had to be a bathroom. Massey and Keen would be upstairs in guest bedrooms, probably sleeping peacefully.

Styer figured the watchers there expected him to make a run at Massey, and that Massey had enlisted their help, and who could blame him? They never learned, always merely reacting to whatever he did. Creativity in cutouts was seriously lacking. They were bulls in a china shop. If he took out their team-and here they were, sitting around with their thumbs up their butts and asking for it-the hunters he couldn’t see would be even more infuriated than they were now. It was very tempting. Of course, that move would change it into a different game altogether, because there’d be cutouts everywhere, but then again, that might add some sport.

He took out his Ruger MK II pistol, a Luger-shaped semiautomatic in.22 LR with a built-in suppressor that was seamlessly connected. The small gun was reliable, easy to conceal, and accurate for close work. The suppressor made the shots as quiet as cat farts.

“Time to go to work,” Styer said to himself.