Just One Look by Harlan Coben

Honda Accord’s trunk, to the back of the Ford Windstar. Once the bodies were out of sight, Wu changed license plates, got rid of the E-ZPass, and drove the Ford Windstar back to Ho-Ho-Kus. He parked the minivan in Freddy Sykes’s garage. There was still enough time to catch a bus back up to Central Valley. Wu searched Conwell’s car. Satisfied that it was cleared out, he took it to the Park-n-Ride on Route 17. He found a remote spot near the fence. A car being left there for days, even weeks, was not unusual. The smell would eventually bring attention, but that would not be anytime soon.
    The Park-n-Ride was only three miles from Sykes’s house in Ho-Ho-Kus. Wu walked. Early the next morning, he rose and caught the bus back to Central Valley. He picked up Sykes’s Honda Accord. On the way back, he took a brief detour past the Lawson residence.
    A patrol car was in the driveway.
    Wu considered that. It did not cause him great concern, but perhaps he should nip any police involvement in the bud. He knew just how.
    Wu drove back to Freddy’s residence and turned on the television. Wu liked daytime TV. He enjoyed watching shows like
Springer
and
Ricki
Lake
. Most people poo-pooed them. Wu did not. Only a truly great society, a free one, could allow such nonsense to air. But more than that, stupidity made Wu happy. People were sheep. The weaker they are, the stronger you are. What could be more comforting or entertaining?
    During a commercial-the theme of the show, according to a graphic on the bottom: “Mommy Won’t Let Me Get a Nipple Ring!”-Wu rose. It was time to take care of the potential police problem.
    Wu didn’t need to touch Jack Lawson. All he had to say was one sentence: “I know that you have two children.”
    Lawson cooperated. He made the call to his wife’s cell phone and told her he needed space.
    At ten-forty-five-with Wu watching a mother and daughter wrestle across a stage while a crowd chanted “Jerry!”-a call came in from a prison acquaintance.
    “All okay?”
    Wu said yes.
    He pulled the Honda Accord out of the garage. As he did, he noticed the woman who lived next door standing in the window. She was wearing lingerie. Wu might not have thought much about the scene-a woman still in her unmentionables after ten in the morning-but something about the way she suddenly ducked away…
    That might have been a natural reaction. You parade around in lingerie, forgetting to pull down your shade, and then you spot a stranger. Many people, perhaps most people, would move away or cover up. So it could be nothing.
    But the woman had moved very fast, as if in a panic. More than that, she had not moved when the car first pulled out-only when she’d spotted Wu. If she had been afraid of being seen, wouldn’t she have pulled the shade or ducked down when she first heard or saw the car?
    Wu pondered that. He had, in fact, been pondering it all day.
    He picked up his cell phone and hit the button to dial the last incoming number.
    A voice said, “Problem?”
    “I don’t think so.” Wu turned the car around and started back toward the Sykes house. “But I may be late.”

chapter 12
    Grace didn’t want to make the phone call.
    She was still in New York City. There was a law against using a cell phone while driving unless it was hands-free, though that had nothing to do with her hesitation. With one hand on the steering wheel, she felt around on the floor of the car. She located the ear attachment, managed to untangle the cord, and jammed the earpiece deep into the canal.
    This was supposed to be safer than using a handheld?
    She turned on the cell phone. Though Grace hadn’t called the number in years, she still had it programmed into the cell. For emergencies, she supposed. Like this one.
    The phone was answered on the first ring.
    “Yes?”
    No name. No hello. No company greeting.
    “This is Grace Lawson.”
    “Hold.”
    The wait was not long. First Grace heard the static and then,