Forty-Two
DC Wayne Paterson parked their dirty silver Ford behind a red Mazda, five houses down the street from Mike Steele’s house. DC Nigel Beard, sitting in the shotgun seat, moved the switch for the interior light into the off position, and adjusted his night-vision binoculars to get a clear view of the driveway. The officers in the red Mazda pulled out and drove off down the street.
Mike Steele had been smart enough to turn off his smartphone so they couldn’t locate him using its GPS signal, but he hadn’t counted on them hacking into his young wife’s email account. Mike Steele might have known how to hide, but it seemed he couldn’t bear to be apart from his wife for longer than a week.
They knew Mike’s wife was in the house. They knew she was going to him. They just didn’t know whe
