back of the warehouse was brightly lit, and there was a good deal of activity going on. Three tractor-trailers marked Grand Springs Trucking were backed up to the loading dock, and another three sat off to one side, motors running, awaiting their turns. On the dock Brown stood out in his suit. Everyone around him wore jeans or work clothes.
“How’s your neck?”
Juliet’s whisper tickled his ear, but he didn’t twitch. “Itchy as hell,” he whispered back.
“It’s not really unusual for deliveries to come in at night, is it?”
“I don’t know. But do you think Brown comes out to personally oversee the unloading of every nighttime shipment?”
“Probably not.” She wriggled around, then came up with a small rock that had been somewhere underneath her. She was about to toss it aside when Martin grabbed both it and her hand. With a weak smile, she gave him the rock, which he laid silently in front of them.
As he watched the men work, he made up a mental wish list: electronic equipment for listening in on Brown’s conversation, binoculars for closer examination of the crates being unloaded, and a gun, a nice little SIG-Sauer. He felt damn near naked without the comfortingly familiar press of the pistol in the small of his back.
He became still, his thoughts distracting him from the activity at the loading dock. He’d carried a gun. His subconscious must have been aware of that—after all, guns were the weapon of choice for killing, and he knew he’d killed—but it was still a disconcerting idea. A lot of people carried guns. Cops. Burglars. Thieves. Rapists. Murderers. Drug dealers.
Maybe his business in Grand Springs had had something to do with Maxwell Brown. Maybe he’d been looking for work. Maybe he’d been checking out the competition.
“Martin.”
Maybe he had come here to make a deal…or a hit or—
“Martin!” Juliet whispered his name and tugged his jacket even as she slid further down into the ditch. A big, burly guy was coming their way, and he didn’t look particularly friendly.
Snapping out of whatever bleak possibilities he’d been contemplating, Martin moved quickly, silently, to the bottom of the ditch, pulling her with him. For a long time they lay motionless, listening as the footsteps came closer. Just when it seemed as if the man must be walking right up to the fence, a truck door opened, then closed. A moment later the engine rumbled to life, the gears ground and the truck pulled away.
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