Glen hadn’t been here earlier today, but it had been the same ritual for weeks, and he didn’t expect it to change.

Now the only real window of time to grab Maddox was in the morning before he left for work. Kill him quickly there in his driveway. It had to be done and done fast.

Glen considered grabbing Maddox now, but with his family home and the other cop inside his house he had no guarantee he could get to him.

Glen did not like the odds. His previous successes had all been because he attacked his victims when they were alone—when they were weak, distracted, vulnerable.

He didn’t want to storm the house. Too risky.

He circled in his car, then parked in a driveway far down the street. He’d surveyed the neighborhood many times. The owner of this particular house was an airline pilot; his schedule was erratic. He had left two days ago and would likely not return for another day or three. The houses were spread far apart, and there were many trees, but Glen couldn’t risk any neighbor spotting an unfamiliar car and calling the police. He had to be quick.

He left his car and walked in the shadows across the street, through the open space between two houses, and into the open field behind Maddox’s house. The snow from the last storm had all melted because there were few trees in the field to provide cover, but tomorrow’s storm would bring it back. The grass was long enough to obscure him in the dark of night from the prying eyes of neighbors as he made his way to Maddox’s house.

The house had a pool in the back with a safety fence around it. There were enough trees and shrubs to hide in, so he edged closer. Though he wore a thick jacket, gloves, and a hat, the cold seeped under his skin. He couldn’t stay out here too long.

But he’d stay as long as he could.

Glen watched the house from just outside the property line. Maddox and the female cop were in the living room. The back blinds were all open, and when they turned on the lights, it was easy for Glen to see inside. No one else was home. If the wife was home, the lights would have already been on. He glanced toward the garage, which was dark—no one appeared to be working late.

No wife, no little kid. The youngest boy was never left home alone.

Glen frowned. The wife wasn’t there. The boys weren’t there. This was unusual. They were always home at night. Sometimes the older boys had things after school, but it was late, well after the dinner hour. The family always ate together... Just like Glen had eaten with his parents every night until his mother’s senseless death.

The female cop walked to the back of the house and closed all the blinds. Glen could no longer see in. She looked familiar, but Glen wasn’t surprised—he’d spent a lot of time over the last two months watching the police station, and all the cops that went in and out. She wasn’t in uniform but she could have changed at the station, he supposed. Or maybe she was a detective.