26
I park the Camaro with the top down on a quiet street. I kill the engine and the lights. Put on a pair of thin black gloves. Slip on a plain black baseball cap and pull the hood of a lightweight black sweater over the top. I open the door and step out into a mild, still night.
It's late. Crickets chirp and the drone of the freeway is a whisper at most up here.
I don't lock the Camaro. Don't want the sidelights to flash.
I walk up the hill roads. A couple of blocks. A few twists and turns left and right. Past garage doors and mansion walls. Zero traffic and no one out on the streets.
My legs feel the burn as the road rises steeper. I move fast and quiet. Turn at the sound of a can hitting the floor. Relax as a raccoon scurries down the side of a wheelie bin, the can rolling away dow
