“We need to make a plan,” I said. “But first off, I’d like us to assume that he does not have an infrared scope. Just seems too unlikely.” Actually, it was more that I didn’t want to assume the worst, but whatever.

“I’ll buy that.” Keith looked around as best he could while in a crouched position. “You should make a run for your car and try to get away, because he’s going to come closer to see if I’m dead.”

Unfortunately, there was another pertinent item that needed to be pointed out. “He also knows there were two people at the fire pit,” I said. “There was enough light to see both of us, and he might have heard us talking. If he’s being thorough, and all indications are that he’s detail oriented, he’ll want to get rid of both of us.”

“Minnie—”

“And anyway, I’m not wearing the right shoes to run anywhere.” I indicated the flats I’d chosen to wear that morning, a million years ago, back in a pre-sniper world. “There has to be another way.”

“The best way is for you to get out of here. None of this is your fault.”

“Like it’s yours?” I made a scoffing sort of noise. “And I am partly to blame, because if I’d been smarter, I would have figured this out earlier, told the police, and we wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”

Keith shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “That brings up a good question. Why didn’t you call the police instead of coming here yourself?”

Because they wouldn’t have believed me, I almost said. Instead I said, “That is a good question. When I was a kid, my parents often said I didn’t think things all the way through, and it’s finally occurring to me they might have been—What was that?”

We held our breaths, waiting, because the noise had sounded like a branch breaking. Was Drew sneaking up on us? Was he coming closer and closer, easing silently through the dark yards?

And we were down on the ground, cowering like sitting ducks.

“Is there a door in the fence anywhere?” I asked urgently. I hadn’t seen one, but maybe it had been cleverly hidden.

Keith shook his head. “We talked about it and decided there wasn’t any need, because it would just go into a neighbor’s yard. We all get along, but we also all like our privacy.”

Since backyard landscape projects didn’t tend to have Escape Route from a Rifle-Toting Killer high on their priority lists, I didn’t fault Keith and his wife for not having installed a small hatch somewhere. Still, it would have been nice.

Snap!

“He’s coming closer,” Keith breathed.