The Night Watcher
“He lived in his mother’s house in a run-down neighborhood in Astoria.
Rica stood to the side on the wooden porch while Stack knocked on the door. She thought this was better than the neighborhood where she’d grown up, and wondered what it would have been like to have a room of her own in a house like this, have girlfriends who lived on the block, maybe walked to school without worrying about— “Rica?”
She started at the sound of Stack softly calling her name. This wasn’t the time to be daydreaming. What seemed routine could any second turn deadly. Cops who forgot that part of their training could die suddenly or cause it to happen to others.
Without thinking about it, she moved her hand closer to the 9mm in its shoulder holster beneath her coat.
“Yes?” a woman was saying warily.
Judging from what they could see of her deeply etched features, and her one visible faded eye as she peered from behind a door open only a few inches, she was hardly the lover of a desperado. Probably Masters’s mother.
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