Chapter Twenty-ThreeJack Mullen made a point of slowing the Monte Carlo as they approached the residence, so that he and Martinez could check out the occupants of parked cars, as well as people moving in and out of the residence. It was dusk, and the early stages of darkness, along with the extensive front yards, made it hard to see the addresses on the houses.
“You think this is gonna work?” Aurelio Martinez asked. He reflected thoughtfully, then said, “I've been a uniformed cop for twelve years, but what do I know about being an FBI agent?”
“About as much as me, but it should be a cinch,” Mullen said, confidently.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, these people don't know what the rules are either. Just walk around like you own the place and you're doing them a favor by showing your face.”
