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.Avoiding the front, where bright lights shone, they approached the back entrance.The big French doors stood locked, moonlight shimmering on the glass.“Would you do the honors, Valdez?” he asked.She indicated the white sticker on one of the window panes, warning that the home was secured by an alarm system.“Go ahead and pick the lock,” he said with a grin.“I’ve got a hunch.”She removed a lock pick gun and tension wrench from a waist pouch and knelt to work on the cylinder pins.Within fifteen seconds, she sprang the lock.He had expected her to take longer.For a rookie fresh out of training camp, she was unusually skillful.When they opened the doors, the security system beeped once, and then quieted.“Ah, I was correct,” Cutty said.“They were in such a rush to get out of here they didn’t bother to arm the system.”Her eyes sparkled in awe at his keen instincts.With a generous sweep of his arm, as if they were entering his own home, he beckoned her to go in ahead of him.He lightly brushed his fingers across her ponytail as she swept forward, just a quick, innocent touch, and the feel of her hair across his flesh gave him a warm, tickly sensation.He put his fingers in his mouth for a moment, tasting her essence, and followed her inside.They were in a large kitchen furnished with ultra-modern appliances, granite counters and island, and hardwood floors.It was meticulously clean, the cooking surfaces, sinks, and countertops spotless and gleaming.Then he saw the bottle of alcohol on the counter.“Look at this, Valdez.” He read the label.“Hennessey? This looks like hard, vile stuff.Thorne must be an alcoholic.”He screwed the cap off the whiskey and upended the bottle over the sink drain.The pungent fumes drew tears from his eyes, but he didn’t stop until he’d poured all of it out.He tossed the bottle in a wastebasket.“Alcoholic beverages are a lure of the devil,” he said.“The nectar of the damned.But of course you know that.”“Si,” she said.“Is very bad.”The refrigerator was a stainless steel behemoth, and actually built into the wall.He pulled open the doors.It was stocked with temple-fortifying foods: fruit, vegetables, milk, juice, bottled water, a tub of butter, deli meats, cheese, condiments.“Uh oh,” he said.“Look what we have here.”She peered over his shoulder as he pointed out a lower shelf that held a six-pack of bottled beer, and a twelve-pack of a caffeinated cola.“Not only is Thorne an alcoholic—witness more alcoholic drinks—he drinks caffeinated cola, too.Caffeine is another drug, Valdez.We’ve got a serious addict on our hands.”“Ah, si.”Clucking his tongue, he removed the beer and the soda and methodically poured the contents of each bottle and can down the sink drain.He returned to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door.The racks were stuffed with meats, fish, more vegetables, and, disappointingly, a pint of gourmet vanilla ice cream, which he promptly trashed.The pantry beckoned on the other side of the room, and he saw a wet bar off the kitchen that surely contained a whole storehouse of poison, but he had done enough.Continued exposure to Thorne’s addictions would have only nauseated him, and he couldn’t afford to be ill.He needed to keep up his energy and eat a proper meal of his own, as he had a busy night ahead of him.“Would you mind preparing sandwiches for us, Valdez?”A frown.“Eh?”“Sandwiches.I prefer turkey, Swiss cheese, lettuce, and mustard.I’m sure there’s fresh bread in the pantry, but be careful in there.Doubtless it’s full of all manner of unwholesome things.”She hesitated, and then went to the pantry doors.“God bless you,” he said.“You know, I bet you’ll make some godly man very happy one day.You’ve got so many wonderful, wifely qualities.”She looked at him, eyes flat and indifferent.“That was meant as a compliment,” he said.She said nothing.Had he offended her?He stammered.“Umm, anyway, while you do that, I’m going to look around some more and see what else I can learn about this heathen.”She turned away.He was puzzled.Women were so mysterious it was as if they spoke a foreign tongue.Had Adam endured these same challenges with Eve?He entered the main hallway, a long corridor illuminated with soft light from a crystal chandelier.Photographs hung on the wall, and he stopped to examine them.Evidently, Thorne had deciphered the language of women.In one framed photo, Thorne and a striking black woman stood face to face in front of an altar, holding hands, their eyes full of love, while a pastor looked on in the background with a benevolent smile.He thought he’d glimpsed someone in the passenger seat of Thorne’s SUV.Thorne’s spouse was a point against him.A husband on the run would have to consider his wife’s welfare, would be burdened by her womanly needs and weaknesses and inability to defend herself, and as a result, would be more vulnerable.If Thorne were wise, he would dump his wife off somewhere, and go about his business alone.But he didn’t blame Thorne if he kept the woman around.She was a looker.He moved to another picture
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