Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6, Kathleen Brooks [great novels of all time TXT] 📗

“Peter!” Paxton called out as he flung open his boss’s door without knocking. “I got it.”

Paxton was already back at his seat pulling up all the information by the time Peter walked to his desk. “Look, their whole lives are on social media. Most of these posts are public. Look at them collectively and what do you see?”

Peter looked over all the images and shook his head. “It’s everything a thief needs to know, even a barely competent thief could clean them out. What time they have their morning coffee. What time their exercise classes are. When and where they’re going on vacation and the whole freaking layout of their house with every valuable asset chronicled for the world to see.”

“I’ve asked IT to run a scan for all Charleston residents on social media who have tagged themselves in certain locations,” Paxton told him.

“Good. Let me know what you find.”

It didn’t take long for Paxton to get a list of people who were actively posting their current vacation photos. Now it was up to him to see if they had any art of value to steal.

Paxton’s eyes were crossed, but two hours later he’d found two promising leads. With Peter’s blessing, he was off to check them out. He drove over the bridge and into Mount Pleasant. It didn’t take long to reach Sullivan’s Island and the four million dollar beach house whose owners were currently away.

Paxton stopped across the street and looked at the sprawling house with sweeping staircases and a circular drive with a large water feature in the middle. A brand new Mercedes-Benz Sprinter was backed up to the garage. The sign on the side read in clear print Palmetto Luxury Contractors. A phone number and website were also listed. Paxton pulled up the website on his phone and saw a passable enough page. He then called the number listed. It rang but then he got the voicemail for Palmetto Luxury Contractors. Lots of people had construction done when they weren’t at home, but something felt off to him. It was too coincidental.

Paxton checked his gun and then approached the house as casually as possible. He made it to the garage before seeing the first person. The man had on pressed khaki pants and a gray polo shirt with the company name embroidered in red across his heart. It wasn’t the professional outfit that caught Paxton’s attention. It was the sight of the snake tattoo on the man’s arm. It was the same tattoo Paxton had painted onto his arm to prove his membership with the Myriad gang when he was undercover with them in Atlanta. This man was not part of the Atlanta gang, at least not someone he’d ever met. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t know Paxton. He had hoped his scruffy appearance while undercover versus this clean-cut look was enough to confuse anyone.

“Can I help you?” the man asked as he walked out with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hey,” Paxton smiled easily back at him. “I’m the Havishes’ neighbor. They asked me to come water their plants while they’re on vacation. So, are they finally re-doing their bathroom? They’ve talked about it forever.”

“Yes. We’re taking our measurements now. Maybe you can come back once we’re done?” the man asked easily enough to Paxton.

“Can’t. I have to get to the city for work. I won’t be but a minute and I’ll keep out of your way,” Paxton began to walk past the man who was now looking a little nervous. He didn’t look back as he took the stairs from the garage up to the first floor. Paxton’s hand was already on his gun as he approached the open door.

The sound of boots walking toward the door in front of him and the sound of the door at the bottom of the stairs opening had Paxton pulling his weapon. He was trapped with someone coming up the stairs from behind and someone coming toward the door a few steps above him.

Paxton hurried up the last two stairs and put his ear to the door. The second the footfalls stopped on the other side, Paxton flung the door open as hard as he could.

The door slammed into the man on the other side as Paxton rushed through the open door, shut it, and threw the deadbolt while a second man groaned and held his hands to his nose.

In a blink of an eye, Paxton took in his surroundings. He was in a hallway. A guest room was to the left, and to the right was the rest of the first floor. The man going for his weapon had the same uniform as the man Paxton had locked downstairs and the same snake tattoo. Myriads in Charleston? Paxton didn’t have time to think about what that meant.

The man moved for his weapon and Paxton aimed his gun at him. “FBI. Don’t move or I’ll shoot you,” Paxton warned.

Leaning against the wall next to the man was a painting that had been taken down. That split second it took for Paxton to see the painting was all the man needed. The gang member pulled his weapon and aimed it at Paxton. Paxton didn’t hesitate. He fired. The dead man dropped to the ground with the gun still in his hand.

Paxton heard the sound of the man in the stairwell take off for the garage and Paxton gave chase. The wooden stairs in the enclosed stairwell echoed as he ran down them, gun at the ready.

He burst into the garage in time to see the van speed out of the driveway. The man wasn’t going to hang around hoping his buddy had killed Paxton and not the other way around. He was out of there, and Paxton heard the distant ringing of a cell phone from the top of the stairs. The getaway driver was getting whatever they’d already stolen free from the house and would then find out if his partner was alive.

Paxton raced