CHAPTER 2
Saint Paul, MN
A few stray beer bottles rattled along the street, blown by the wind. Gideon curled his lip in distaste. Neighborhoods like this disgusted him. It was populated almost solely by undergrads, with a smattering of graduate students and a few young professors who had not yet made enough money to move to better accommodations.
The houses weren’t rundown because of economic shortcomings, but because of neglect. The residents didn’t take pride in where they lived.
Although it was late morning, the neighborhood remained quiet. Given the hours traditionally kept by this population, that was not surprising. In fact, Gideon had been counting on it.
He’d watched the couple on the first floor of the prewar-era colonial drive away a few minutes ago. Like most of the houses on the block, this one was broken into two apartments. His target lived on the second floor. He watched the street for another few minutes, noting little activity.
Easing himself out of his car, he straightened his trench coat, pulling up the collar against the slight rain. He crossed the street and tried the front door. Unlocked. He sighed. This was simply too easy. He passed the entrance to the first floor apartment and headed up the stairs.
At the landing, he followed the hallway back to the front of the house. Pausing before the only door, he listened for any sounds from inside. A chair scraped along the floor and someone crossed the room.
He rapped on the door three times, tapping his foot as he waited for the occupant to answer. He heard the locks being undone and restrained the urge to roll his eyes. No asking who it was, simple trust that nothing of harm could be on the other side of the door.
The man who opened his doors was in his late twenties, of medium height, with a mop of curly brown hair, jeans in need of a good wash, and a rumpled Henley.
“Can I help you?”
Gideon smiled. “Drew Masters?”
Drew nodded.
Gideon took a step forward, crowding Drew back into the apartment. “We need to have a little chat.”