Read Finding Sky (A Nicki Valentine Mystery Book 1) for Free Online

expected it to be rundown, showing outward signs of whatever family trouble might exist inside. Instead, the end unit looked prim and proper, with its trimmed mini-lawn and bushes, brick façade and flower boxes brimming with orange fluffiness. Behind it was a neighborhood tot lot.
    I parked in a nearby visitor spot to get a better feel for the place. I imagined Beth going up and down the cement sidewalk or driving up the asphalt driveway into the garage. I didn’t get a cheery feeling from the house, but I couldn’t find anything wrong with it either. The windows were dark and the curtains were drawn, which was normal at 11 p.m.
    The surrounding houses were similarly quiet and well tended. Neat landscaping. Coiled hoses. Empty driveways. Some had flags with summer themes. The messiest yard held scattered plastic toys, a tricycle and a kiddie pool. If I lived nearby, that would probably be my favorite neighbor—the parent who couldn’t pull it together before collapsing into bed. The street felt safe, as though any disturbance would stand out.
    After twenty minutes of uneventful observation, I put the car in drive. Off to look for a gang member.

      
    Marcus’s neighborhood was fabulous if you appreciate fixer uppers, BEWARE OF DOG signs, and loud, customized cars. I drove just fast enough to avoid being a target for potentially bored, armed teens. As I neared his street, I had to slow down and get my bearings. I resisted the impulse to wave at three guys on the corner. Instead I stared straight ahead and hoped they didn’t notice me.
    I turned right, and three blocks later I parked across from Marcus’s ’70s-style split-level home. I doubted its window bars had been an original option. It was surrounded by a chain link fence perfect for little ones or pets. (No running into the street!) But here, maybe it kept people out.
    I shut off my headlights and sat in darkness. The ignition emitted a tiny green glow I’d never noticed before, probably because there are street lamps galore in my neighborhood, something I’d taken for granted. I left the keys in place for light and a quick escape.
    I felt around the backpack while my eyes adjusted. I wanted a surveillance log, which I’d forgotten to use at Beth’s house. After a minute of digging frustration, I dumped everything on the passenger seat and found one.
    I lowered my head to get a closer look, accomplishing hiding and writing at the same time. I listed details about the time and location, including license plate numbers on the cars around me. I noted that Marcus’s front door was open with only a screen door as a barrier. Did the house need fresh air? Was there nothing inside to protect? The hall light was on and the windows were dark except for a basement half-window in the rear corner of the house, which cast soft yellow light onto the weeds outside. I wanted to sneak up and look inside, but that was way out of my league.
    I was just starting to settle in and munch on animal crackers when I noticed something in the rearview mirror. The teens from around the corner were heading my way, and upon closer inspection, one had Marcus’s solid build and light mustache. I stuffed my notes under the seat, relocked the doors, and crouched down. Slowly, I squeezed between the kids’ seats to the back of the van, where I hoped tinted windows would shield me from view.
    As soon as I got to the third row, I wished I’d brought my cell phone. How many times had victims called the police while being carjacked? At least the van didn’t have a trunk for anyone to stuff me in. I pressed my face into the gray, brushed fabric bench. My outfit was dark and my tan was decent, so I imagined blending in, as if visualization would help. Anxiety and lack of air conditioning made the van uncomfortably warm and slightly stifling. I turned my face sideways and took a slow, deep breath. Voices were coming closer.
    “We need a ride,” one guy said.
    Footsteps moved past me and