Chapter 19
Half an hour later, just past two o’clock, Frank parked the rented Audi in front of the townhouse.
He picked the lock easily, after first making sure no busybodies peeked out their windows, and went in. Horace followed him, shutting the door but not locking it.
Horace laid what looked like a chef’s knife roll on the counter. They’d swung by his cozy little bungalow, only a few blocks from the office, to get his favorite toys. He’d also exchanged the green bandanna for red.
He’d unrolled the black canvas, revealing a beautiful set of five hand-forged spring steel throwing blades, when someone knocked softly on the door.
“Right on time,” Frank said. He opened the door and a young man walked in, wearing black slacks, a black t-shirt, and the requisite shiny black leather jacke
