The dim and shallow street lights in Shenandoah Drive E illuminated a hollow shadow of the dark figure that stood in the driveway of a Victorian bungalow. With heavy drapes, simple windows, and dark hues, the bungalow had a hint of modernity.
Bob tucked his hand in the pocket of his black hoodie that merged perfectly with the night and pulled out his phone. He verified that the image he had with him was the same as the house before him.
Having confirmed, Bob clicked something on his phone and put it back in his pocket. He looked around warily as if scoping out the area and adjusted his hood to cover his face as he proceeded to the porch of the house.
Since the lights were still on inside, Bob had no reason to believe Adam Mash wasn’t home.
Bob rang the doorbell and waited, feeling
