Silence from beyond the door. Awaiting backup? If so, I had time to move away from the door and…And what? Jump out the window? Hide. I could get behind—

A shadow moved across the door opening. I could make out a filthy sneaker and an arm clad in a battered leather jacket. Hardly standard wear for law enforcement. An undercover officer?

I stayed against the wall and waited for him to step inside. Then I’d knock him down and get the hell out—

The shadow crossed the open doorway. Through the crack behind it, I saw a young man, maybe twenty, dressed in ill-fitting clothes that screamed charity wear. He cast a nervous glance through my doorway, then scuttled down the hall.

It could be an undercover officer, but if so, he should have stepped into this room to conduct a thorough search. Through the crack, I watched the young man continuing down the hall, peering into some rooms, ignoring others, haphazardly searching. Not a cop but a junkie spooked by the police presence outside and looking for a safe, quiet hole to shoot up.

All this for a goddamned junkie who probably wouldn’t have even noticed me standing at the window with a rifle?

I swallowed a burst of rage, reminded myself I had a bigger concern. When the figure reached the end of the hall, I sprinted for the window, looked down…and saw an empty table.

I whirled and grabbed my rifle. Then I spun back to the window, my gaze going to the alley. It was empty. From here, I could see right to the end. I swung back, visually retracing the path from the alley to Jack’s chair, but saw no sign of him. A server was at his table now, holding his half-empty beer glass as she wiped his table.

Heart thudding, I scanned the crowd for Evelyn’s pink hat, and found it a few storefronts away. I slowed my survey of the crowd, searching for Jack’s light brown wig, bearded face and leather jacket. But people were moving off the road and crowding onto the sidewalk as the distant sound of music announced the beginning of the parade.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Evelyn glance up. I waved my arms. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes. I grabbed my gun-cleaning cloth—the lightest-colored item I had. I waved it, then gestured toward Jack’s table. When she saw that empty chair, she stiffened, and I knew she understood. She jabbed her thumb down, then pointed at me and jabbed down again. Come down.