Adam (Farraday Country Book One)

Chapter Eighteen

eed Taylor parked the patrol car as close as he dared to the Silver Spurs Café. The nearly full moon would make sneaking around more challenging if anyone was watching. And he didn't doubt that more than one citizen of Tuckers Bluff was already peering through the curtains.

D.J. had texted Reed moments ago that he was at the top of the stairs, waiting for Reed to be in place. The closer he got, the easier to make out where Adam stood guard at the back door. If whoever had broken in tried to leave without using the apartment's front stairs, they'd have no choice but to enter the café in order to access the back exit. Odds of that were pretty slim, but it was good that Adam had it covered nonetheless.

Reed hunched down beside Adam. "Anything I need to know?"

"Nothing new. You probably know more than I do."

Lifting a large rock by the rear door, Reed retrieved a key, slipped it into the dead bolt and, unlocking the door, inched his way into the café's back hall, ready to climb the inside stairs. Adam was on his heels. The plan was for Reed and D.J. to come in, charging from both sides together. "You should stay here."

"Not a chance."

"We don't know what we're dealing with. You're unarmed."

"Not anymore." Adam pulled a revolver from his belt.

"Where did you get that?"

"Glove compartment. License to carry."

Reed had two choices. Delay backing up his boss by arguing with a stubborn Farraday, or moving forward and hoping to high hell Adam knew how to handle that piece in his hands. "All right. I'll cover D.J. while you cover me, and, for God's sake, don't shoot me in the back."

Adam rolled his eyes and followed Reed up the stairs. The way the officer carried on, anyone would think the men in this part of the country didn't know how to handle a gun. Each of the Farraday boys, and the sole girl, could shoot a rattlesnake from fifty feet away. If it came down to Adam needing to shoot, he would not miss.

At the top of the stairs, Adam stayed pressed to the wall, holding his breath. D.J.'s and Reed's voices called out, "Police." Doors flew open. Adam watched as the two men charged into the room, arms extended, guns pointed, scanning the far corners. "Clear," D.J. called, moving into the back. Reed approached the closed kitchen doors, flung it open and announced, "Clear." With both officers out of sight in the bedroom, Adam eased over the threshold, braced in case whoever the hell had been snooping around slipped past his brother.

Reed and D.J. came to the door, heads shaking.

"No one's here," D.J. reported.

"That doesn't make sense." Adam looked around the room, half expecting the intruder to fall from a nonexistent chandelier.

"The car was still in front of the Cut and Curl when I pulled up," Reed confirmed.

D.J.'s eyes narrowed into thin slivers as he took in the situation. "He was only out of our sight for a few seconds when we first left the clinic. If he'd made it to the car, he would be gone."

"If he left after we crossed the street, one of us would have seen him," Adam added.

"Which means—" Reed chimed in.

"Son of a bitch," D.J. and Adam echoed in unison.

Adam did an about-face and was halfway down the stairs with D.J. and Reed on his heels. The bastard had to have been hiding in the café while they positioned to enter Meg's apartment. Then, when he and Reed climbed the stairs, whoever this guy was had made his escape. Moving faster than Adam thought humanly possible, he ran straight for the front door. Shit. Unlocked. Without slowing down, already running to the clinic, he looked up the street. The car D.J. had spotted hadn't moved. Immediately his gaze shot up to his darkened living room windows. Damn it.