CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
After making a couple of phone calls, I drove to the Harcourts’ house to meet Amy. By the time I reached the area, part of the neighborhood had been thrown into shadow by the patch of woods near the Harcourt house. But the setting sun gave the neighborhood’s widely spaced trees a faint glow, and their thin shadows made stripes across the neatly manicured lawns. I parked close to the house but not directly in front of it.
All of my senses were on high alert as I left the car. Clutching an 8.5- by 11-inch envelope of papers, I approached the Harcourts’ house. Ever since the episode with Benny, this place creeped me out. God only knew who might be out there watching. Would I get an arrow or a bullet to the head? My concerns about privacy took a back seat to my concerns about survival. Of course, by now, my backup might be in place or nearly there, which provided some reassurance.
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