Page 40 of Skin Game
“Maybe Alfred spooked him?”
The chair was several feet from Bowie opposite the door. Casey didn’t think Alfred was behind Bowie’s reaction, and he couldn’t believe that Gabe did either.
“That’s his ‘there’s something out there I don’t like’ stance. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if he did distrust that chair, I think he heard something outside,” Casey said quietly.
Gabe stepped around him and made for the door, then opened it an inch or so and peered outside. Based on the bit of outside that Casey could see above Gabe’s head, dark had fallen hard. Thesky was cloudy, not even a sliver of moon peeking out. The only light came from the few close-by porch lights that residents had flipped on. Bowie crowded Gabe’s legs, scrabbling to get past him, but he held tight to the doorknob, for which Casey was grateful. He so much did not want to chase after Bowie in the dark.
“I don’t see anyone out?—”
“Shh!” Casey whispered as he crossed the six feet or so to Gabe and slammed the door shut again.
Casey would never be able to explain the sense of impending dread he felt in that second.
“Get down!” Lunging at Gabe, Casey dragged him to the floor while he stretched for the overhead light switch and flipped it off. They were plunged into near darkness, with only the ambient light given off by the stove and microwave displays for light.
Then there was a sharppopsound, and the front window shattered and glass fell to the carpet.
“What the fuck?” Gabe hissed, outraged instead of terrified by the shooter. “Did some fucker just shoot out one of my windows? This is war. I’m fucking pissed off now.”
He started to stand, but Casey kept a firm grip on his belt. “Wait.”
The sound of rapid footsteps heading away from Gabe’s home reached their ears.
“The fuck they’re getting away.” Gabe jerked out of Casey’s grasp and surged to his feet. “Thefucksomebody is coming here and fucking around with my house.”
Before Casey could grab him again, Gabe had shoved his feet into a pair of Crocs—Casey wanted to point out that they might not be the best footwear for chasing after a gunman but kept his mouth shut—jerked the door open and was jogging past their parked cars out to the access road. Bowie, not to be left behind, was at his side.
Casey hastily jammed his work boots back on and raced after the two of them. In Gabe’s own words, what could go wrong?
A fucking lot.
He caught up with Gabe a couple of hundred feet away from his house, out of breath and standing with his hands on his hips, staring toward the main road. Bowie was just a few feet away, still on alert but at least not sprinting into unknown danger.
“Did you see anyone?” Casey asked.
“No, dammit, I fucking did not. I’m not exactly Usain Bolt, especially not in these.” He lifted one Croc-encased foot. “Look at you.” He poked Casey in the chest. “You’re not even breathing heavily.”
Casey ignored him. Someone had taken a shot at Gabriel. Unacceptable.
“What the fuck was all that about? Why would anyone shoot at me? Or was it for both of us?” He scowled. “Fine, yeah. We both know it was me they were aiming for.”
Across the road, Bill’s living room light came on. Casey figured Gabe would rather not have to explain the shooting to his neighbor. Or he’d make up an outlandish story that no one would believe anyway.
“I can’t begin to imagine what’s behind this. But let’s get back to your place. We left the door open.”
“Crap.” Gabe turned around and started back, Casey and Bowie hot on his heels.
“I don’t think anyone got in,” Gabe said, glancing around once they were back inside. “Does it look like it to you? We were only out there a few minutes. Shit, I didn’t even hear a car driving away. Did you?”
Casey shook his head, hands on his hips. “Nope.”
No car meant the guy either lived nearby or had parked close and the shooter had walked into the park. Sure, the shooter could have been a woman, but statistics said the likelihood of that being the case was pretty damn low. And Casey needed the stability of statistics right now.
If the point of the shooting had been to get them out ofGabe’s house, it had been a failure. They had been drawn outside but not far enough away that someone could have easily snuck into the mobile home.
Gabe’s place looked the same to Casey, everything exactly as they’d left it. But he did a quick sweep of the rest of the rooms to satisfy himself that there was no one hiding in any of them.
“Okay, I think we’re good. Exhibit A, leftover pizza still sitting on the counter. If someone did get in here, it wasn’t hungry teenagers. And if it had been, they could have knocked. I would have shared the leftovers.”