Robert B. Parker by Wilderness Page A

through the windows.”
    “Even if there were,” Hood said, “the damned blinds are closed. You couldn’t see what to shoot at.”
    It was a bright summer day, but not hot. The windoff the ocean was steady and pleasant. Newman felt strong. He was conscious of the thickness of his arms and chest, the resiliency of his legs, the small, good weight of the gun under his shirt. He realized he wasn’t afraid.
On the prowl
, he thought.
That’s what makes the difference. I’m not slinking around scared, wondering what he’s going to do. I’m after him. He should be scared
. “Running makes you scared,” Newman said.
    Hood said, “What?”
    “It’s running makes you scared,” Newman said. “Now I’m chasing instead of running, I don’t feel scared.”
    “Yeah,” Hood said. He was looking at Karl’s house. “There’s no damned cover,” he said. “No buildings we could get in and shoot from, no place where we could be under cover and wait. We could shoot from the car, but it’s difficult driving and hard to get out of here. Traffic’s bad. There’s a cop up there on the corner. Probably usually is.”
    “The gun helps, too,” Newman said.
    “Helps what?” Hood said.
    “Not being scared. The gun makes you feel good. Like you can’t be overpowered.”
    “I wouldn’t count on can’t,” Hood said. “The gun makes it harder, but it doesn’t make you bulletproof, you know?”
    Newman nodded. “What do we do now?” he said.
    “I figure we watch,” Hood said. “We get a feel for how this guy functions. See if he goes to work or something. Get him outside the house we may have a better chance.”
    “We could go right up and knock on the door and when someone opened it in we go with the guns.” Ashe said it, Newman hoped Hood would disapprove. Newman didn’t like the idea as he said it.
    “Some things wrong with that, Aaron. We don’t know who or what’s in there. Guy like Karl may have some bodyguards. Also if there were other people there besides Karl, like his wife or kids or whatever, we’d probably have to kill them, or they’d be able to identify us to the cops, or Karl’s friends or whoever. Besides, a guy like Karl probably doesn’t just open the door when someone knocks. Even if we didn’t get hurt, if we tried it and didn’t get in, we’d make him suspicious. We don’t want him suspicious.”
    “That’s for sure,” Newman said.
    “We’ll split it up,” Hood said. “I’ll be in the car up the road. If Karl comes out and gets in the car, you turn and look out to sea. I’ll come down and pick you up.”
    “Okay. And if no one goes anyplace?”
    “Come supper time we go home,” Hood said. “What else can we do.”
    “And come back tomorrow?”
    “And come back tomorrow,” Hood said. “Unless you get bored and want to quit.”
    “I won’t quit,” Newman said. “Besides, as long as I’m watching him I know he’s not after me.”
    Hood nodded and walked up the street to where the car was parked.

9
    At seven-twenty in the evening, Newman walked up along the seawall and got into Hood’s car, parked on the street in front of the drugstore.
    “That’s it,” he said. “If I stand there another five minutes my toenails will fall off.”
    Hood started the Bronco and they drove back past Karl’s house. It was as impervious and blank as it had been since they arrived.
    “Well, the first day wasn’t too thrilling,” Newman said.
    “One day it will be,” Hood said. “Things take time. You gotta be careful, and watch, and work out what you’re going to do, and know what you’re up against. Takes time.”
    “Umm.”
    At eight they pulled into Newman’s driveway. Janet’s maroon MG was there with the top up. “Never mess the hair,” Newman said.
    Hood smiled. The house seemed quiet. Newman felt the threat of its silence.
    “Come on in for a beer,” he said to Hood.
    “Sure.”
    They got out of the car and Newman put his hand on the butt of the gun under