Page 78 of Shadows Reel

The cop circled their rental Nissan, holding a long black flashlight to see inside.

Once again, Viktór regretted that they had picked this motel. The rooms had only one door and that was to the parking lot. There was no inside door to a hallway. If they needed to escape, they would have to run past the cop outside.

“What’s he doing?” László asked.

“Looking inside our car. Did you leave anything incriminating on the seat?”

“No.”

“Now he’s looking our way.”

“Is he on his radio?”

“Not that I can see.”

“I’m glad I changed the plates on it.”

Viktór let out a breath of relief. He’d forgotten László had done that. So what did the cop want? It was rude that he hadn’t turned off his headlights.

“I’m going to find out,” Viktór said.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea,” László said, standing so closeto him with the shotgun that Viktór could feel his brother’s body heat.

“It’s a normal reaction, I think. It’s more suspicious to not open the door when he’s right outside.”

László grunted an agreement. Then: “Don’t invite him in.”

“Of course not.”

“Speak English.”

“Of course,” Viktór said defensively.

“I’ll be ready,” László said.

“We don’t kill cops.”

“Then don’t invite him inside. And remember the cover story.”

Viktór nodded and shot the bolt back on the lock. He cracked the door about a foot and looked out. He shaded his eyes against the headlights with his outstretched hand and tried to appear like he’d just awoken.

“What’s going on, Officer?” he asked. “Those lights...”

“Oh, sorry,” the cop said. “Just a second.”

The cop reached into his vehicle through the open driver’s-side window and the lights doused, leaving two pulsating orbs in Viktór’s eyes.

“Sorry about that,” the cop said. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Is there something wrong?”

The cop hesitated. As the orbs dissipated, Viktór could see him better from the ambient lighting from under the eave of the motel. The cop was young and fresh-faced with blue eyes and a wash of acne along his jawline. Despite the dark uniform and semiautomatic weapon on his belt, he looked like a teenager.

“Deputy Tucker Schuster, Campbell County Sheriff’s Department.”

“Bob Hardy. That’s my car.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hardy,” the cop said. “Where are you from?”