CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
What was it with Mabel Forbes and her houses? Perhaps I’d already met the self-proclaimed real estate maven herself. I took a few photos of the Harcourts’ front yard from different angles. Not that there was much to see. I just wanted proof of that.
I made my way out the back door and moved around to the front-left corner where I took a few quick shots of the Harcourt house from a rather tricky but doable angle. That’s when I noticed a uniformed man leaving the house where the van was parked. I stopped where I was and watched him as he walked toward the van. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten into the murky gray of pre-dawn, but I could make out his features well enough to see that he was handsome, about my age, a bit younger maybe. I raised my camera again.
He climbed into the van, fired up the engine, and swung the van around into a three-point turn. I held down the button on my phone to make it snap multiple stills without stopping. As the van rumbled past, the logo on its side came into view. A clock—the kind with hands—and the name “Round the Clock” on top of the image. Under the logo were the words (in quotes) “We deliver.” I’ll bet they did.
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