This Wicked Game

NINE

Xander was quiet as they drove across town. Claire didn’t press him. She could only imagine the possibilities running through his mind.

They found a spot on the same street they’d parked on two days earlier.

Xander turned to her. “So what, exactly, is the plan?”

She’d been thinking about it ever since he agreed to go with her. “I think we should case the place, do our best to make sure the house is empty, and then try and get past the courtyard.” It wasn’t exactly foolproof, but it was the only thing Claire could think of.

“Then what?” Xander asked.

“We break in,” she said. “See what we can find.”

Xander took a deep breath. “Maybe you should go home. Let me see what I can find out on my own.”

Claire shook her head. “No way. I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

“Claire, I don’t want you to get hurt because I need to find out what my mom was doing with that guy.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “This isn’t just about your mom. In case you forgot, these people came into our store, too, and Eugenia knew my name.”

Xander considered, finally nodding in agreement. “Okay. But if I even smell trouble, we leave. No questions asked, okay?”

Claire agreed. It’s not like she wanted to get caught breaking and entering.

They got out of the car and headed down Dauphine, slowing when the camellia bush came into view. Resuming their positions from the first time they’d staked out the house, Claire peered through the bush, focusing in on the courtyard.

“Let’s just wait,” Xander said. “See if anyone comes or goes before we take a chance with the courtyard.”

Claire nodded. She took advantage of the time by taking in as much detail as she could about the layout of the courtyard and house, noting where the windows and doors were and where the landscaping might give them some cover.

The entire courtyard was lined with large, overgrown bushes. If they stayed near the walls, no one would see them coming.

That was the good news.

The bad news was that there weren’t very many ways in, at least from the front.

Claire turned to Xander. “Let’s get closer, check it out.”

“Wait.” He put a hand on her arm to stop her. “How do we know no one’s home?”

“We don’t,” Claire conceded. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

Xander hesitated before nodding. “Okay, but if someone’s there, we leave. And I don’t think we should go in through the front gate.”

Claire scanned the courtyard. The ocher-colored house sat between two others, separated by a tall iron fence on one side and a slightly lower stucco wall on the other.

“We could try to get over that wall.”

He followed her gaze. “Can you do it?”

She rolled her eyes. “You mean because I’m a girl?”

“No,” he said, with a sigh. “Because you’re short.”

“Oh.” Now she felt stupid. “I don’t know, but I can try.”

Xander was already heading for the other side of the stucco wall. The house on that side was small and poorly maintained, set back from the street and shrouded in the low-hanging branches of a giant oak tree.

They eased into the neighbor’s yard, helped along by the leafy shrubs and bushes that grew along the side of the little house. Staying undercover while edging along the stucco wall, they continued toward the back of the property until a sound from inside the house brought them to a stop. They looked at one of the shack’s windows, where the flickering light of a TV, the source of the noise, cast shadows on the yellowing, lace curtains.

Locking eyes, they stood silently for a few seconds before continuing to the back of the house.

The backyard was even worse than the front, the grass dry and scraggly, dirt showing through in patches. A dog on the other side of the back fence barked ferociously.

“Hurry,” Xander whispered. “That dog’s blowing our cover.”

He bent to one knee, lacing his fingers together and cupping his hands.

Claire slipped off her flip-flops and stuffed them into the waistband of her shorts. She placed her bare foot in Xander’s hands.

“One . . . two . . . three,” he whispered.

Her knee buckled a little as he lifted her into the air. She touched the wall with one hand, using it to steady herself on the way up. When she was almost level with the top, she grabbed for it with both hands. She hung there for a few seconds, the wall under her arms, before she was able to pull herself upright and turn to a sitting position.

She looked down at Xander. “Want me to give you a hand?”

He shook his head. “But stay there until I’m up and over. I don’t want you in the courtyard alone.”

She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or grateful by his overprotectiveness. But the dog was still barking, and somewhere in the yard behind them a screen door opened with a creak and then slammed shut as someone stepped outside, cursing at the dog. Claire scooted over so Xander would have enough room to heave himself up and over.

He eyed the wall, seeming to gauge the distance between it and where he stood on the ground. Then he took two steps back and sprinted toward it, jumping at the last second and grabbing onto the wall with both hands. Some of the stucco broke loose, crumbling to the ground with a soft patter.

Xander only hung there for a second, the muscles in his brown arms flexing under his white T-shirt as he pulled himself up, his stomach resting on the wall. He bent one knee, using it as leverage to get on top of the wall. Then he swung both legs over and dropped to the ground on the other side.

Claire spun around, watching Xander scan the courtyard.

“All clear,” he whispered, looking up at her. “Can you jump?”

She nodded, and he stepped back to give her room. She landed with a soft thud on the gravel that lined each side of the courtyard.

Xander gestured toward the back of the house. Claire followed, sticking as close to the stucco wall as the bushes would allow. There were a couple of small windows on the side of the house, but they were covered by draperies. Not ideal. If they cased the house through a curtained window and someone was on the other side, they wouldn’t know until it was too late.

They kept going, stopping at the end of the house to make sure nobody was in the backyard. When they were sure it was empty, they eased around the corner.

The back had more opportunities for entry. There was a bank of French doors plus a balcony on the second floor that ran the length of the house.

Xander looked back at Claire. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Claire admitted. “Try the doors?”

“They’re glass. What if someone’s in the room?”

“We could try the other side,” she suggested.

“Okay, but stay behind me and be ready to run if someone’s home.”

Claire followed him around the corner, and they were immediately engulfed in shade, giant trees blocking out the heat and sun. Panic clutched at her chest as they made their way along the narrow walk between the house and the fence. The possibilities were slim for escaping such a tight spot in a hurry.

Xander continued to the first window. It was open. Not by much, just an inch at the bottom, but it was better than nothing.

Claire nodded when he pointed to it.

He stood on tiptoe, peering inside. Then he slid the window upward. A rush of hot air escaped the room.

He turned to her. “If there’s trouble, you go. You can get help if you want, but you have to promise to go.”

She nodded. There was no way she’d leave him behind, but he wouldn’t keep going if she didn’t agree.

He hoisted himself up onto the windowsill, swinging his legs in so gracefully he could have been a gymnast. His head appeared in the window frame a few seconds later.

“So far so good. Want me to check it out first?”

She shook her head. “No way.”

He sighed. “Okay. Need help?”

“No.” She was already reaching for the sill. After the stucco wall, the window was no problem. She pulled herself up and slid into the room as if she were exiting the deep end of a pool without a ladder.

Then she was inside, looking around and taking stock of her surroundings.