If anyone happened to look at the interior monitor, they’d see what they normally saw, an empty alley. The next phase of his plan involved recording Grangeland standing at the door for approximately three to four minutes. He hoped that would be long enough. If anyone were inside, they ought to be able to answer within that time frame. What if no one answered at all? What then? Did they ram the door? They didn’t have the resources for a prolonged stakeout and even if they did, how long would they have to wait? Hours? Days? Weeks? Not an option. Nichole Dalton and her daughters could be in there. If no one answered, they’d break in, glean what they could, and bug out.

“I’m almost ready. I’m going to feed the normal scene through the line.” Nathan pressed the play button. Anyone on the inside would now see the seven minutes of empty alley he’d just recorded. He plugged the camera’s end of the cable into the second DVD recorder and inserted the second disk. “Grangeland, advance.”

“On my way.”

She called it pretty close. Thirty-three seconds later, Harv reported her arrival at his location.

Nathan heard Grangeland say, “No peeking.” She must’ve purposefully keyed her mike for that comment.

Harv said, “The thought never crossed my mind.”

“Okay, okay, you guys. Grangeland?”

“One minute.”

It was a long minute.

Nathan watched her approach the front door. She looked striking, even in the outer reaches of the security spotlight. She’d swapped her pants, sweatshirt, and ballistic vest for her altered gym outfit. The legs were cut just below her butt and she’d cut the top just below her breasts. It didn’t look like she had anything on under the skintight outfit.

Damn! He hoped the men inside wouldn’t notice her missing high heels. He knew they’d never see the tiny wire leading up to her ear. The camera mounted above the door wasn’t HD. Her image on the interior television screen would be average-to-poor clarity—definitely not doing her justice. As long as she didn’t turn around, they wouldn’t see the radio.

“Harv, stand by. Grangeland’s almost in place. Grangeland, I’m hitting record… now. You’re on.” He peered over the parapet as Grangeland did her thing. She rocked back and forth, swiveling her hips and running her hands across her chest. She leaned forward and blew a kiss toward the door.

“Grangeland, for cryin’ out loud. They’re going to blow their—” He stopped himself. He just couldn’t say it.

She eased off a little. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m going to keep recording for another two minutes or so. You’re doing fine.” He couldn’t watch the rest—couldn’t afford this mental distraction right now.