Chapter 17

The inside of the house on Monarch Avenue was empty of furniture, with the exception of two kitchen stools buttressed up against a counter whose ceramic top was cracked and pitted. There were no appliances, and the water and electricity had been turned off months ago.

The lease on the property testified to the fact that Edgar and Anna Penn had paid for a whole year’s lease with the intention of refurbishing the property if the owner would cut them a deal on a possible sale—something the owner had readily agreed to.

The Monarch property was little more than a way station for the two occupants who were staring out the window at the fight going on across the street. While the man watched the fight move onto the road, the woman watched the thin man on the motorcycle and his companion, who was puffing on a cigarette.

His eyes still on the ongoing fight, the man said, “I know the guy on the cycle. Do you remember when I did the pay-per-view of the martial arts exhibition in Las Vegas a while back?” The woman nodded. “He’s the number-two expert in the world. Do you think it’s strange that he’s right outside this house?”

The woman nodded again. The little dog he’d brought with him barked, then lay down on the filthy floor and went to sleep.

“The men scrapping with each other are of Asian descent, like the man on the cycle.”

The woman looked up at him. He was so detached about everything. With what was going on outside, he sounded like he was discussing preparations for an evening at home with his friends. Nothing fazed him. Nothing. She, on the other hand, was a worrier; she even had a set of worry beads. “We need to leave now. What about the dog? We can’t leave the animal here.”

“I’m going to call a messenger service to pick him up and take him back to his owner. I’m not heartless.”

Yes you are, she wanted to say but didn’t. “They’re too close. We’ve always had ample warning before. What are you waiting for? Do you want them to come up and knock on the door?”

“You worry too much, honey. When you rush, you make mistakes, and that’s when things go wrong. I do not make mistakes. Aren’t you the one who drilled into my head at the beginning that we had to have foolproof contingency plans in place due to your paranoia? At the risk of repeating myself, this was all your idea.”