He checks behind and under tables, and through other cabinets. I keep hoping he won’t see me, but I don’t know what I’ll do if he does. My hiding place is my last-ditch effort. I don’t have a Plan B.
Finally, after what seems like an hour, but is probably only about a minute, Dirk heads for the door. Then he stops.
I cringe as he picks up one of my ingots from the table next to the door. He grunts as he deals with the unexpected weight. The lead gives a dull luster from the outside streetlight as Dirk turns it over in his hand, obviously perplexed.
I hold my breath as I watch him. If he takes those, I’m going to have a much harder time getting home.
Eventually, he sets down the weight, where it clunks loudly on the table. He grasps the door handle, and I desperately hope this isn’t som
