“Or maybe he’s planning to run already, and I’ll be able to follow him.”
Evan put his hands on the back of Colin’s chair. “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”
“No.”
“Then wait until I bring Lily home and I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no reason for you to come.”
Evan let go of the chair, standing straight again. “Don’t do it,” he finally said. “For your own good, call Margolis.” No doubt trying to emphasize the point, he reached for Maria’s computer, and near the door he stuffed it back into her bag. He grabbed Maria’s other things and left Colin’s apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Colin watched him go without a word.
In the car fifteen minutes later on his way to Shallotte, Colin thought about the things Evan had said.
Why was he going alone? Why hadn’t he called Margolis? What did he hope to achieve?
Because, as Evan had implied, the situation had become personal. He wanted to finally put a face to a name; he wanted to see with his own eyes what the guy was like. He wanted to watch Lester get served by Margolis, and then, in the aftermath, find a way to keep an eye on him, even if he didn’t tell Margolis about that, either. It was time, he thought, for Lester to begin looking over his shoulder, instead of the other way around.
If it even was Lester, of course…
And yet, Evan had reminded Colin of the risks if the hunch turned out to be correct. Evan was good for things like that, and Colin knew he had to be careful. He was a single mistake away from heading to prison, and he promised himself that all he was going to do was watch. Even if Lester strolled by the car, he wasn’t going to so much as touch him. And yet Colin still felt on edge, the adrenaline already beginning to flow.
He forced himself to take long, steady breaths.
He navigated through Wilmington, hitting one red light after another and eventually reaching Highway 17. He had punched the Robins Lane address into his phone, and he watched as the directions appeared. He followed the verbal commands, and at a little after two in the afternoon, he was making the final turns, through a quiet blue-collar neighborhood that on the surface reminded him of the one where Maria’s parents lived. But only on the surface. The homes were smaller and not as well kept; more than a few had overgrown lawns, and here and there, he saw FOR RENT signs, making the area feel transient. The kind of neighborhood where people kept to themselves and didn’t stay long.
Or wanted to hide?
Maybe.
He parked in front of a small bungalow two doors down from the address he was looking for, one of the rentals, behind an old station wagon that had seen better days. There was a small porch out front and he could see the door and one side of the house, where a window with curtains drawn faced a neighboring house. Peeking out from the far side of the house, he could see the nose of a blue car but couldn’t make out the type.
Someone home?
Had to be. Atkinson’s car was at the park. Or, at least according to Margolis, it had been a few hours ago.
He wished he’d somehow been able to keep Maria’s computer with him. It would have been helpful to make sure the phone was still here. He wondered whether he should call Evan and ask, but Evan would use the opportunity to lecture him again, and he wasn’t in the mood for that. Besides, more than likely, Evan and Lily were already headed to Lily’s condo with Maria’s things. Which meant that all he could do was watch with the hope that Lester would eventually venture outside.
Then again, as Evan had reminded him, Colin still wasn’t sure what Lester even looked like.
Glancing at his phone, Colin saw it was coming up on three o’clock now. He’d been watching for an hour. There’d been no signs of movement beyond the curtains of the bungalow; no one had come outside. The blue car remained in place.
On the plus side, none of the neighbors had seemed to notice him, and the street itself had been quiet. A couple of people had walked past his car; a few kids had run by kicking a soccer ball. The mailman had come by and Colin had temporarily gotten his hopes up – he could, perhaps, catch the name of whoever lived in the house by checking the mailbox – but the mailman passed the house, making no deliveries at all.
That was odd. He’d stopped at every other home on the block.
It might mean nothing at all.
Or it might mean that whoever was living at the house didn’t generally receive mail, because their mail was sent elsewhere.
It made him wonder.
Time continued to tick by. Four o’clock now, and Colin was getting antsy. He wrestled with the urge to do… something. He wondered again whether to call Margolis. Wondered whether to risk a knock at the door. He trusted himself not to overreact. Or mostly did, anyway.
He stayed in the car, taking long, slow breaths, and was startled when his phone dinged. Evan.
What are you doing?
Colin texted back, Nothing.
Another hour passed. Five o’clock, with the sun beginning to sink lower, still bright but predicting the gradual onset of dusk. Colin wondered when, or if, the lights would go on inside; since he’d been there, it had become easier to imagine that no one was inside the bungalow at all.
His phone dinged again. Evan. Again.
I’ll be there in a minute, the text read. I’m almost at your car.
Colin furrowed his brow, then looked over his shoulder and saw Evan approaching from behind. Evan hopped in and closed the door, then rolled up the window. Colin did the same.
“I knew you’d be here. As soon as I left you, I knew exactly what you intended to do. And then you lie to me in your text? About doing nothing?”