THIRTY-ONE
Brian stood outside of the B and B, looking up into the front bedroom window, Angie’s bedroom. The lights were still on, and it was past midnight, way past her normal time to retire. She had not answered his call fifteen minutes ago. He was sure something was terribly wrong, now that he saw the lights on.
Reaching into his back pocket, Brian punched in 911. He immediately asked for officers to respond to a potential murder in progress. Where were the people who were supposed to be surveilling the property?
Brian walked around to the back of the building, looking for a motorcycle, but found none. Tank probably parked it a distance away so Angie didn’t hear him approaching. Where are the police? If they don’t arrive soon, I’m going in.
“How do you plan to kill me? With your ba
