ALF WHISTLED AS THEY pulled up to the gate. The house sat well back from Meridian Street, its enormous white-brick façade half hidden behind a thick copse of trees.
Brita frowned. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Adam Sandon will get us both fired if we so much as ruin his appetite tonight.”
Alf punched the call button on the control box and smiled as the camera mounted on a corner post swiveled in their direction. A gruff, disembodied voice burped from the speaker on the box. “What can we do for you?”
“This is Detective Muldane of the IMPD and I’m Federal Agent Honeybun. We’d like to speak to Mr. Sandon, please.”
“Hold on.” The gravel-over-glass voice disappeared and silence descended.
Alf looked around while he waited. On a street that was filled with large, impressive homes, Ada
