Page 74 of Disarming Caine

It was a two-story house with a small third-floor gable window, likely a narrow attic space. All the curtains facing us were open, allowing me a clear view into a dining room on the right and a living room plus all-glass four season room to the left.

“Are you lucky?” asked Antonio, snaking a hand back to pinch my leg.

I jumped and knocked the binoculars into the window. “Not today, apparently.”

“Do you want to take a stroll down the road? Maybe you can see something on the approach in either direction.”

“Gimme a sec.” I zoomed in closer through the living room window. “Lucy sent me a ton of photos of their artwork. But there was one painting where all you can see is part of the frame. It should be in the living room.”

I couldn’t see the correct wall and needed a different angle. Maybe that walk was the right idea. But was wandering down the street in broad daylight a wise plan?

Pivoting to look out the back, I trained the binoculars on the car parked three lengths behind us. It was only two days after I’d compared the bullet casings and the security team had been everywhere. “Are they going to be following me tomorrow?”

“Do you have results back from Janelle?”

“None.”

“I’d prefer if you let me do this.” He reached back to rub the side of my leg. “I respect you can handle yourself, but I was worried sick all day Wednesday until you told me they caught him. I’d prefer not going through that again.”

“I know.” How could I argue the point when I’d felt the same worry about his safety? “And maybe a walk is a good idea, but I’m not sure.”

Antonio swore under his breath, the exact opposite reaction I’d expect to my being cautious.

My head snapped up to see a Mercedes SUV park across the street, in front of the house. A lovely woman in a long navy coat over suit pants walked toward the trunk. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

“Do up your seatbelt. We’ll come back later.”

“They’re not home. She’ll knock and leave. Besides, we can go for that walk, regardless.”

Antonio slid his seat back and turned to face me, grimacing. “That’s not it.”

A knock on his window caused us both to startle.

“Sorry,” he whispered before turning around to roll down his window.

The Mercedes woman’s face lit up. “Antonio! I thought it was you!”

“Buongiorno, Irene. Long time.”

She either didn’t notice me lurking in the back, mostly hidden behind Antonio, or was choosing to ignore that there was a woman in his car. “Are you here for a pre-check of the house? Doing a little drive-by?”

“Sì, that was the plan.”

“Many people have been doing that.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, with a little extra huskiness added in. “I’m the agent. I’m here to set up a few new photos and I could… ah… give you a private tour?”

The way she purred those last few words, she definitely hadn’t seen me. I slid across the buttery-soft leather—polished so much I almost continued to the opposite side—and plastered on a smile as bright as hers. “We’d love that!”

Irene’s face fell.

Antonio raised a hand to point back at me, but it was his left, ungloved hand.

Irene’s eyes fell to his ring and bulged slightly.

“This is Samantha,” he said.

“His wife,” I added, my voice an auditory slap across her face. Hit on my man, will you?

Her real estate agent polish returned almost instantly. “Wonderful. I just need to grab a few things from my car.”