As Lex and Scorvo watch from the doorway of the Ladies Room, the hallway guard hikes up the crotch of his pants and looks around furtively.
“I guess you were right, Scorvo. Showtime.” Lex whispers.
Scorvo stealthily slips out of the women’s bathroom. Lex is only aware he has left by the soft brush of a muscled arm against her right shoulder. A second after the guard enters the Men’s Room, the door opens and shuts a second time. Lex holds her breath, and mentally crosses her fingers.
"Please don't do anything stupid, Scorvo!" Lex mutters quietly. "I don't think I can take you getting killed too. Not when we're this close."
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The hallway guard chooses the furthest stall from the door and goes into it. He throws the lock and pulls down his pants. Once his butt hits the toilet seat, he reaches into his uniform and draws out the most recent issue of Men’s Health. Reclining his weapon against the inner wall of the stall, the guard flips through the magazine.
Licking his right index finger, the oblivious guard issues a soft chuckle before turning the page of his magazine. Folding down a corner of the page he is currently on, the guard flips to the back of the magazine. He settles into a more comfortable position on the toilet and crinkles his brow, continuing his reading from a previous intermission of duty.
Scorvo reaches under the door of the stall and carefully adjusts the position of the coveted weapon. Once he is sure his movements will not be observed, Scorvo removes the rifle from within the stall. He is gone before the guard has even begun to lighten his load.
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Mattley Residence
“That’s a pretty tall fence, James.” Deputy Newsome says, peering up at the top of the fence surrounding Lex’s new home. “I don’t think I can scale it.”
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“I know you can’t. I wasn’t planning on asking you to. And it’s electrified. So…Duh! We’re gonna have to find another way in.”
Detective Mackey studies the surrounding area. A sly smirk plays across his face as he spies a large tree several meters to his right.
“There. That tree. It overhangs the fence by at least two feet. I think I can make it. If I can get inside…I’ll shut off the power to the gate. You just wait here.”
Mackey takes off at a sprint, headed for the enormous tree. Deputy Newsome watches James go with a hint of jealousy. He places a hand on his wide hip and shakes his head.
"Show off!"
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Twenty minutes later
Deputy Newsome is seated cross-legged in front of the electrified fence. Every few moments, he splashes water from his plastic bottle on the fence, waiting to hear a sizzle. He is still waiting when Detective Mackey strolls from the house and waves excitedly.
“Come on, Dave! It’s off!” Mackey hollers from the porch of the main house. Deputy Newsome groans and climbs to his feet. He reaches for the gate’s lock. Suddenly, Detective Mackey raises an alarmed cry.
“Wait...No. Don’t touch that!”
Dave draws his hand back as if the gate were a snake coiling to strike. Shrill laughter greets Dave’s ears and his cheeks redden.
“I was just kidding you, Dave. Come on. Wait till you see what’s inside. I told you, we’d find something out here. Hurry up, hurry up. Come on.”
Unlocking the gate, Dave makes his way up the front path toward the main house.
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“Definitely signs of a struggle. Look at the guitar case, and the giant blood stain on the beautiful rug and carpet. Somebody met a violent end here. Question is…Was it the lady? The mysterious Laura Mattley? Or our old friend Ranger Espenza? And who abandoned her truck out at the park?” Mackey postulates aloud.
“Where there’s blood…There may be a body,” Newsome says. “So far, we haven’t found a single thing to say there’s been a murder…Except this blood. I’m betting there’s a body here too.”
“I’m betting, you’re right. This is the scene of the crime. They didn’t even bother to tidy up. We should check the property for any indication that someone’s been doing some digging.”
Dave’s eyes widen and he points to a spot a few feet away.
“Screw that. Look. On the floor…By the door.”
Mackey slowly turns, almost afraid of what he will see. Glimpsing what Dave is pointing at, Mackey walks over to the spot and squats down. He lightly caresses the carpet, upon which another large claw-print stands out in sharp contrast to the surrounding tan color.
“Dirt. Someone…Something…Has been playing in dirt. Now…We’re getting somewhere. Get ahold of Riley. He’ll give us that search warrant now.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Deputy Newsome disappears out of view, as he slips from the front door. Detective Mackey rubs a hand across his chin, feeling the stubble there. His eyes narrow dangerously.
“Now…We’re getting somewhere.”