“The house was completely clean, prints included. And to keep from messing it up, she'd spent the night in the garage on a cot, though she wouldn't have called it sleeping. She'd been waiting for someone to arrive for her. If Kirov had Ryan, surely he would come for her, too. Or perhaps the torture of not knowing was his way of making her pay. It was too subtle, she decided. Subtlety wasn't like Kirov. Oskar Kirov had something bigger in store. She watched the neighbors' car until it had disappe...ared around the corner and then waited another three minutes. They had breakfast and played Saturday-morning bridge at some friends' house, Mrs. Dawson had told her once. It didn't matter where they were going. Just that it was the same place as every week and that they wouldn't be back for at least three hours. Dressed in sweats and running shoes, Cody headed out her back door. She crossed the sidewalk and entered the Dawsons' side yard. Moving swiftly, she followed the slippery brick path around the side of the house to the fence, then reached up and unhooked the latch.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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