Setting the picture down, Wendy saw walk-in closets. Walking into the first Wendy stepped out, since it clearly belonged to the guy. Looking at the back of the door, Wendy saw his duty rig hanging up. Stepping over quickly, Wendy opened the other closet and saw a duty rig hanging from the door. Pulling the rig off, Wendy saw a gun in the holster.
Pressing the release, Wendy pulled it out and put the one she’d been carrying on the bed. “Glock 23,” Wendy said, ejecting the magazine and saw it was full. Giving the gun a press check, Wendy saw brass in the barrel. “My kind of people,” Wendy said, slapping the magazine back in.
Wendy put the rig and the suspenders on and found it was a little large. From the photos and clothes, Wendy knew the woman was near her size but after the flu, Wendy still had some weight to regain. Even going down one size with her wetsuit, the suit had still been loose. Putting the rig on the bed, Wendy adjusted the belt and suspenders and then put it back on.
With the rig on, she adjusted the suspenders because the woman clearly had been much better endowed than Wendy ever would be. Moving into the closet, Wendy grabbed some pants and shirts and tossed them on the bed. On the floor, she saw another pair of tactical boots, but these were well-worn but in good shape. Picking them up, Wendy was shocked to see they were a size seven.
Grabbing the boots and clothes, Wendy picked up the pistol from the bed and headed back downstairs. Tossing the stuff on the desk, Wendy saw the girls playing with Ryan. “You found a holster,” Sally grinned.
“Yep,” Wendy smiled, looking at the girls in their wetsuits. None of them had brought clothes because they’d needed room for diapers and formula, baby food and juice, water and then finally, a little food for them. Wendy had reasoned it would be easier to find the girls stuff than Ryan. “Are you two okay? I’m going to check the truck out.”
“Can I take this off? It’s hot,” Jo Ann groaned, grasping at the wetsuit.
“Not yet, baby. We will look around for some clothes,” Wendy said and then jerked as a gunshot sounded off in the distance.
“Was that close?” Jo Ann panted.
Shaking her head as she glanced toward the windows, “No, that was a mile or so away, but keep an ear out,” Wendy said and they nodded.
Moving back to the garage, Wendy opened up the back of the Tahoe with the fob and saw it was empty. “Oh, I can fix that,” Wendy tittered, grabbing the duffel from the sedan and setting it in the cargo area. Opening it up, Wendy saw a tactical vest and magazines for the M4.
Laying the stuff out, Wendy had to admit that the woman could pack. Reaching the bottom, Wendy found a hard case and opened it up. “Holy shit! Cops around here get night vision goggles?” Wendy gasped, pulling out the PVS 14 monocular. “I bet they didn’t pay what my husband did,” Wendy snickered.
Putting the monocular up, Wendy repacked the duffel bag. Looking further into the vehicle, Wendy saw another duffel bag and climbed in before pulling it to the back. Inside she found another vest, but there was also a satellite phone, crime scene tape, notepads, a tape recorder, cameras, and a video camera.
Taking out the vest and ammo, Wendy set the bag on the sedan. Walking around and looking in the back, Wendy didn’t see another M4. “Where’s his?” she thought out loud. Shrugging her shoulders, Wendy moved to the front of the garage and a workbench.
Seeing a small chainsaw, Wendy grabbed it. “Need this just in case of road blockage, but I’ll have to get rid of this before I get home. Arthur would freak out, seeing me with something other than a Husqvarna.”
Putting the chainsaw in the back, Wendy froze. “I wonder how long I’m a carrier?”
Thinking for several minutes, “We’ll stay at the office house for a month,” she finally said and moved back to the workbench. Grabbing a small gas can, Wendy opened it to see it was mixed fuel. Setting it to the side, Wendy grabbed a large Phillips screwdriver and a hammer.
Setting them to the side, Wendy laid a small crowbar in the stack and dug through a toolbox, pulling out a few other tools. “Thanks to my husband, I know what every tool I’ve come across is used for,” Wendy mumbled. “I wonder if that is alarming to some people?”
Bending down, Wendy saw a plastic oil pan reservoir. Pulling it out, Wendy felt it was empty and after looking at it, she wondered if it had ever been used. The reservoir looked like it would hold well over a gallon with a long spout off the side that was capped off.
“Almost have my fueler,” Wendy said, grabbing a water hose. Picking up the utility knife she’d laid out, Wendy cut off two sections, one four-foot-long and the other, eight-foot-long. Finding a hose clamp in the toolbox, Wendy put one end over the oil spout after taking the cap off. With a lot of shoving, she got the one end of the shorter hose over the spout. Then she put the hose clamp on and was sure it wasn’t needed, but this was how Arthur had taught her so she would do it.
Putting the tools in a small plastic toolbox, Wendy moved the stuff to the back of the Tahoe. Glancing over at the sedan, “Where the hell are their private vehicles?” Wendy asked out loud.
She knew there weren’t cars in the circular drive at the front of the
