Chapter 23The scream momentarily froze Sam to the spot, and he knew instantly it was Lucie. Hurriedly he squeezed down the side of the Nissan Juke, which was nosed into the driveway, its bulbous rear end level with the aging, lichen-mottled concrete gate posts. Sam squeezed through the gap, the spiny branches of the hedge scraping the back of his jacket. Staying low he rushed to the lounge window, his ill-fitting patent leather shoes practically announcing his arrival as he crunched over the pea-shingle. Drawing the dead pilot's gun, he checked the safety, confirming it was already released and ready for action.
The bright morning sunlight fell on the dirty, single-glazed windows. Reaching the ledge, Sam peered into the building, discovering the front room was empty. He could hear voices,
