Chapter Three
“There she is again,” said Manny, “she comes out at the same time every day.”
He passed the field glasses over to me.
We were crouched behind a board fence that surrounded a foreclosed and abandoned estate, uphill from the house that the girl lived in. One of the boards had broken off about halfway up, providing us with a spy hole and a clear line of sight. The tall weeds that had grown up around the fence screened us.
Manny had reconnoitered the area earlier, checking to see if there were bodyguards on duty or a police stakeout watching her. Nobody else seemed to be interested in our prey, one way or the other. He had found this place, hidden himself in the tall grass, and watched the house for the last two days. Sloan had taken the night shift. On the third day, Manny h
