CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
He sat on a large rock, just along the tree line. He stared at the house intently, but patient. He supposed if someone stood on the back porch and stared out in his direction, there was a slight chance that he’d be seen. But he knew their routines well. The only time they ever went out onto the back porch was for their morning coffee and when they grilled something for dinner.
But he knew they were not grilling tonight. In fact, they weren’t even home. They’d left two hours ago. He’d barely heard their voices as they’d made their way to the car, arguing between Mexican or Thai for dinner.
Since then, he’d been waiting. He’d sat on the rock, motionless. He was rooted there by the anticipation of what would be happening later. He knew he had a few hours left to wait b
