He stood with his hands on his hips. The plan had been locked in since he got in the car, but the hesitation was only just starting to take hold. He knew he shouldn’t be here.

But the woman had seen him walk onto the property, and there was no erasing that fact. So, the only question was whether or not he’d gone in the house. And who was to say that he hadn’t? He might have just sat out here and then left. He wondered how close to the cliff that kind of logic would take him before he fell into a really bad decision.

There were potted plants lined up beside the back door, and he checked underneath them one at a time. Nothing in the vegetable patch that wasn’t growing. He went back to the potted plants, and noticed a metal box attached by magnets to the underside of the gutter near a downpipe. The box held a single key, and it fitted the lock for the back door. He felt the slight jolt as the button popped out on the inside handle. He took the gun from his belt and nudged open the door and stepped in.

The drapes were drawn, and the daylight lay in random crossways bands that broke and re-formed as he moved. The hum of a fridge and the tick of a clock. He moved to the entry hall and found an alarm pad by the front door. The system wasn’t active. He checked the kitchen. Breakfast dishes on a rack: a bowl, and the bright metal stalks of cutlery in their holder. A small bowl of cat food on the floor. No one in the living room. Newspapers on the coffee table. He stood with the gun against his leg, listening. His phone buzzed faintly in his pocket. He waited for quiet again and then moved on.

Nothing unusual in the bathroom. Standard toiletries. Two bedrooms, both with single beds. A study with a desk and a computer and a filing cabinet. Shelves holding loose paper that looked like household bills. He went back to the kitchen and stopped dead when he found the outside door closed. He’d toed it open and hadn’t touched it again. He’d have heard it slam.

‘Why don’t you come and sit down?’

He turned and saw Andre Gutierrez, a sawn-off shotgun in one hand.

They sat at the dining table.

Andre said, ‘When I said stop following me, I meant it.’

They were facing each other across the table’s width. Andre with his elbow on the wood and his head tilted to look along the barrel of the shotgun. Beside him in a little pile were Locke’s pistol and wallet and phone.

Locke said, ‘I didn’t know you were here.’