Read Online Keeping with Killers (The Salingers Book 1) by Adam Nicholls - Free Book Online
Authors: Adam Nicholls
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anyone else.
Although if Dad won't be using the money…
'Perk up. Here she comes.'
Blake stared into the distance. The sun made his eyes water but he could just about make out the figure of someone - probably Marcy - trudging through the gravel and getting into her car. He took the binoculars that Greg was holding out to him.
'Confirm target,' he said.
'Confirmed. Alpha Bravo, eagle is leaving the nest,' he mocked, lowering his voice to sound like a brute.
'Good. Wait until she's out of sight.'
They kept their heads low, with just enough room to peer over the verge. They watched the Audi pour across the stones and onto the grass track, where it continued until it vanished behind a hill.
'Alright, let's move. Oh, and kid,' Greg said, climbing onto his feet. 'Ridicule me like that again and I'll castrate you.' With that, he half-walked, half-ran down the hill and made his way towards the house.
Blake picked up the holdall which they had put his father's stuff in, threw it onto his back, and then set off after him. He struggled to keep up with the additional weight. They were almost at the front door by the time he was within arm's reach. He stopped, looked up, his mouth agape. It's been so long.
'What's crawled up your bum? Mind on the mission, kid.' Greg turned and knelt by the front door, removing a set of pins from his back pocket and taking them to the keyhole. With an air of confidence he fiddled with the pins, a look of concentration upon his face.
'Picking the lock? Yeah, right, and then we can–'
The lock clicked open.
'Oh, right, you did it.'
Greg stood, packing his tools back into his pocket and giving a wry smile to his new companion. 'Ready?' he asked, placing a hand on the oversized door knob.
Before Blake had time to answer, the door swung open and an alarm began to wail. Without thinking, he dropped the bag, cupped his hands protectively around his ears and took a step back. He had totally forgotten about the alarm in this place. He glanced to Greg, noticed that he stood emotionless, staring at him expectedly. Blake soon snapped out of it, darted inside the house and examined the keypad on the wall.
If memory serves…
He only had one shot at this. He thought back to his younger years when he had crept downstairs in the night to camp outside in his tent with Rachel. Even then he knew the code, but a simple mistype alerted the police and they were there within minutes. That had always amazed him–their response time had an impressive urgency.
Now he understood why.
Blake punched in the code, careful not to let his fingers slip and hit the wrong key. As he came to the last digit, he held his breath tight. The screaming stopped, if only momentarily. Within seconds he would know whether the code was correct or if the police would be on their way. He looked to Greg.
Still stood there, only watching.
Blake glanced back at the keypad.
A green light.
'We're okay.' The same code for twenty years, huh, Dad? The numbers matched his mother's birthday. 'Why didn't–' Struck by the suddenly obvious thought, he ran back out to the bag, dropped to his knees and retrieved the black box. Without hesitation, he rang his mother's birthday into the numerical lock. If the code was the same…
He gave it a push.
Nothing.
Shit.
Blake took some deep breaths, thinking about this whole situation. How ridiculous was this? Here he was, back at his childhood home, sneaking around with a spy and hoping the police wouldn't show up. 'Why did you just stand there? You've been here before; you must have known there was an alarm.'
'I wanted to make sure your head was in the game. Not bad reflexes though. Well done.'
'That's dumb,' said Blake, rising to his feet and almost falling straight back down. 'What if I hadn't remembered the code?'
'It wouldn't have mattered,' he stepped forward. 'I knew it.' He turned on his heel and went back inside the house, leaving a blank look on Blake's face.
Motherfu–
There wasn't
Although if Dad won't be using the money…
'Perk up. Here she comes.'
Blake stared into the distance. The sun made his eyes water but he could just about make out the figure of someone - probably Marcy - trudging through the gravel and getting into her car. He took the binoculars that Greg was holding out to him.
'Confirm target,' he said.
'Confirmed. Alpha Bravo, eagle is leaving the nest,' he mocked, lowering his voice to sound like a brute.
'Good. Wait until she's out of sight.'
They kept their heads low, with just enough room to peer over the verge. They watched the Audi pour across the stones and onto the grass track, where it continued until it vanished behind a hill.
'Alright, let's move. Oh, and kid,' Greg said, climbing onto his feet. 'Ridicule me like that again and I'll castrate you.' With that, he half-walked, half-ran down the hill and made his way towards the house.
Blake picked up the holdall which they had put his father's stuff in, threw it onto his back, and then set off after him. He struggled to keep up with the additional weight. They were almost at the front door by the time he was within arm's reach. He stopped, looked up, his mouth agape. It's been so long.
'What's crawled up your bum? Mind on the mission, kid.' Greg turned and knelt by the front door, removing a set of pins from his back pocket and taking them to the keyhole. With an air of confidence he fiddled with the pins, a look of concentration upon his face.
'Picking the lock? Yeah, right, and then we can–'
The lock clicked open.
'Oh, right, you did it.'
Greg stood, packing his tools back into his pocket and giving a wry smile to his new companion. 'Ready?' he asked, placing a hand on the oversized door knob.
Before Blake had time to answer, the door swung open and an alarm began to wail. Without thinking, he dropped the bag, cupped his hands protectively around his ears and took a step back. He had totally forgotten about the alarm in this place. He glanced to Greg, noticed that he stood emotionless, staring at him expectedly. Blake soon snapped out of it, darted inside the house and examined the keypad on the wall.
If memory serves…
He only had one shot at this. He thought back to his younger years when he had crept downstairs in the night to camp outside in his tent with Rachel. Even then he knew the code, but a simple mistype alerted the police and they were there within minutes. That had always amazed him–their response time had an impressive urgency.
Now he understood why.
Blake punched in the code, careful not to let his fingers slip and hit the wrong key. As he came to the last digit, he held his breath tight. The screaming stopped, if only momentarily. Within seconds he would know whether the code was correct or if the police would be on their way. He looked to Greg.
Still stood there, only watching.
Blake glanced back at the keypad.
A green light.
'We're okay.' The same code for twenty years, huh, Dad? The numbers matched his mother's birthday. 'Why didn't–' Struck by the suddenly obvious thought, he ran back out to the bag, dropped to his knees and retrieved the black box. Without hesitation, he rang his mother's birthday into the numerical lock. If the code was the same…
He gave it a push.
Nothing.
Shit.
Blake took some deep breaths, thinking about this whole situation. How ridiculous was this? Here he was, back at his childhood home, sneaking around with a spy and hoping the police wouldn't show up. 'Why did you just stand there? You've been here before; you must have known there was an alarm.'
'I wanted to make sure your head was in the game. Not bad reflexes though. Well done.'
'That's dumb,' said Blake, rising to his feet and almost falling straight back down. 'What if I hadn't remembered the code?'
'It wouldn't have mattered,' he stepped forward. 'I knew it.' He turned on his heel and went back inside the house, leaving a blank look on Blake's face.
Motherfu–
There wasn't
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