Page 12 of Out of the Shadows (Angelhart Investigations)

Laura’s property was problematic, Jack thought as he finished walking the perimeter of the five acres for a third time.

There were some positives. Only one way a vehicle could enter. Though the split rail fence could easily be climbed, it was

sturdy, and it would take a large, heavy vehicle to crash through, giving them time to prepare. The house was in the center

of the spread, which gave them ample line of sight, except behind the barn where trees lined the fence and blocked visibility.

The barn was the first problem because it was only thirty yards from the house, and anyone could approach the property from

the east with the barn and trees as cover. The second main problem was that while there was a gate across the driveway, it

didn’t lock, and there was no alarm system on the house.

Still, the area was quiet, day or night. A serene rural community with little traffic. Sound would carry and be easy to pinpoint.

Jack returned to the house, which was comfortably cool, and accepted the ice water Laura handed him. “You’re making me nervous,”

she said. “You don’t really believe they’re coming back, do you?”

“We need to be cautious. That means securing your house as best we can and not being alone outside. Keep your wits about you.

I’m going to talk to the neighbors, but the heat sapped my energy so I’m taking my truck.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said. “I’m used to Texas summers, but even they didn’t prepare me for this heat.” She rested her

hand on his arm. “Thank you, Jack. I didn’t sound appreciative for your help this morning, but I am.”

“No thanks necessary,” he said.

She noticed that her hand was on him, and she pulled it back, seemingly embarrassed. It was... well, Jack wasn’t quite

sure if he should read anything into it. Laura was Logan’s sister, he was here to watch over her and the kids, and to be honest,

his romantic radar was rusty. He’d only been on a few dates since his divorce, and no one had stuck.

He liked her. She was comfortable in her own skin, confident, accepted help, and pretty.

But, like him, she was divorced with kids and, as she’d said, still loved her ex-husband. It would be too complicated. Maybe...

later. When they resolved this situation, when he had some perspective and had thought things through, he could ask her for

coffee or something.

He said, “I won’t be long. Logan hired someone to fix the back door, they’ll be here within an hour. And I asked that they

install a better dead bolt on the front door. Just as a precaution, but it would probably be a good thing to keep it engaged

when you’re home, especially at night.”

“Thanks,” she muttered and averted her eyes.

Yep, she was embarrassed because she wasn’t interested, and he’d read too much into a casual touch.

As he walked out, he still felt her hand on his arm.

Laura lived on a half-mile-long road that ended in a small turnabout. There were five houses, including Laura’s, and hers

was located on the southeast corner lot. The elaborately remodeled house at the end had been completely landscaped, with a

wide swath of lawn that would cost a fortune to keep so green and a swimming pool that could be seen from the gated entrance.

They’d also erected a barn that looked too fancy for the rugged community.

No one answered the buzzer on the gate, but there was an option to leave a voice message, which he did with his name and phone

number.

The two families across the road were home; both knew Laura and her kids and were concerned about the break-in. Neither had

security cameras or heard anything unusual yesterday—though the older retired couple had been gone all day.

The neighbor to the north of Laura, between her property and the remodeled house, wasn’t home. Jack made a note to return

later.

The two houses across the main road—if one could call the narrow two-lane road a “main” road—were his best bet for cameras.

One property had obvious cameras on the corner of their garage, which was closer to the road than the house. It appeared to

look out to the intersection.

He knocked on the door. He heard kids playing inside. A teenage boy opened the door and at the same time got whacked on the

side of the head with a bean bag. A mass of laughter erupted from inside the house.

“I’ll get you back, Jared, you fucking brat!”

“Language!” a female voice admonished from behind the teen. She slapped the back of his head in a move that reminded Jack

of his Abuela, only she used a chancla —basically, a flip-flop—for punishment.

Jack and his cousins had learned real quick to abide by Abuela’s rules.

“How can I help you?” the mother said while motioning for her son to disappear.

“I’m Jack Angelhart, a private investigator helping Laura Barrett with a situation.”

“Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“She’s fine. There was a break-in last night—”

“Someone broke into her house?” the woman repeated.

“Yes. What’s your name?”

“Kerry Smith. I’ve known Laura since the day she moved in. Sydney goes to school with my daughter, and Cody is a year older

than my youngest son. Are they okay?”

“They weren’t home. I’m a friend of the family and—”

“Friend?” she said with her eyebrows raised. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Jack pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I noticed you had a security camera on your garage.”

She looked toward the garage. “My husband put those in last year when we caught our oldest sneaking out of the house.” She

rolled her eyes. “I told him grounding was sufficient, but he insisted. Two months later, Chris tried it again, my husband

put on the floodlights, and you’d have thought the police had surrounded the place.” She laughed. “He hasn’t done it since.

Groveled sufficiently, but my husband said the cameras were a good deterrent.” She frowned. “Poor Laura. Did she lose much?”

“Nothing appears to have been taken. I’m hoping that your camera is set to record?”

“I think so?” she said as a question. “My husband is at work, he won’t be home until late, he handles—”

“I can do it, Mom!” a voice piped up from behind her. A tall teenager—not the one who answered the door—towered over his mother

and was nearly as tall as Jack.

“All right, if you have time,” Kerry said. “Mr. Angelhart, this is my son Chris.”

“No problem,” Chris said. “I don’t have to be at work until three today. It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Call me Jack,” Jack told them as Kerry led him into the house.

“How do you know Laura?” Kerry asked with a sidelong glance.

“Through her brother.”

“Ah,” she said. “And you’re a private investigator?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack was beginning to feel like he was getting the third degree. Friendly, but odd.

Kerry said to Chris, “Don’t go through your dad’s things, computer only, understand?”

“Yeah, Mom,” he said.

Kerry said to Jack, “Chris is a good kid, truly. Being the oldest of six, he sometimes flexes his wings a bit too far, but

since he got a job at the beginning of the summer, it’s night and day.”

“I’m the oldest of five, I did my own flexing,” Jack said.

She laughed, then a crash in the other room followed by shouts had her running out of the den.

Chris rolled his eyes as he sat down at the computer and booted it up. “Jared and Michael are constantly going after each

other. Do you have a brother?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fight with him?”

“We argued about things, but we never really fought.” Nico was five years younger than Jack. They’d shared a room growing

up, but Nico had been in and out of the hospital until he was twelve, when the doctors finally diagnosed a rare but treatable

bone cancer. Jack had always been involved in sports and spent a lot of time outside the house. He liked his brother, but

they didn’t share common interests, other than an interest in criminal justice. Nico worked in the Phoenix Crime Lab. “I fought

more with my sisters,” Jack said with a smile. “Tess would talk me to death, and Margo was sneaky when she got back at me.”

“That’s my sister, the sneaky one.” Chris typed on the keyboard. “Okay, what time?”

“Sunday, I don’t know the time, but I’d like to look at between 10:00 p.m. and midnight first.”

“Sure. Okay... do you know what you’re looking for? I can speed through it.”

“I’m looking for any vehicle that turned onto Laura Barrett’s street, so I’m only interested in the camera on your garage

that faces the intersection.”

“The garage is Camera Two... okay, here we go. Here’s the current view.”

Jack looked over Chris’s shoulder. The camera showed the driveway and part of the street. He would be able to see any car

that turned from the east, but not the west. As they watched, an older white pickup turned up Laura’s street. Jack thought

it might be the handyman to fix the door, but Chris said, “That’s Mr. Berg. He’s kind of a jerk.”

“Neighbor?”

“He lives next to the Barretts. My sister was over there horseback riding with Sydney once, and he came out yelling at them

for no reason. Then a couple weeks ago, our goats got out. We have three, they’re really good at getting out of their pen.

Other neighbors think it’s funny—like Laura once found them sleeping on her back porch and brought them home. But this time,

they went to Mr. Berg’s house and ate from his vegetable garden. He said he’d shoot them next time, and Jared and my sister

started crying and my mom was angry, and then Dad went to talk to him and came back mad and told us we had to do better keeping

the goats secure. We have an alarm on their pen now.”

“Sounds like a really nice guy,” Jack said sarcastically.

“Yeah,” Chris said with a grunt.

Chris typed in a code, and then a time and the digital copy started from 10:00 p.m. last night. “It’s on triple speed now.”

“Any car you see approach, slow it down, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

They watched. The first car that came was a minivan. Chris said, “That’s the Ahmed family. They moved in a year ago, totally

redid the house at the end of the road. Kinda different.”

“I saw it.”