Chapter 89

More than a little anxious, his whole body felt tense as he found an open window to the warehouse and set about trying to wiggle and contort his small frame through it. He gripped the brick with both hands—covered by black leather gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints—and slid through on his stomach. For once, he was happy to be so scrawny. The arsonist would never be able to use that window, which while being plenty wide only left a few inches for his head, chest, and abdomen to squeeze through. The act still terrified him, however, since there was always a chance he could get stuck, and he had to put his weapon back on his belt in order to accomplish the task.

And worse yet, as he finally made it to the other side, the gun caught on the window pane and was knocked out of its holster, since he had neither placed it in properly nor secured it in any way. It tumbled to the ground outside.

“Shit!” he cursed too loud.