Mason consulted his wrist watch. When five minutes had passed, he nodded to Drake and said, “Okay, Paul, here we go. You keep back and let me go in front.”
“Nothing doing,” Drake said. “We go in together.”
Their feet crunched up the gravel walk. Mason climbed the stairs to the cabin and pounded on the door. There was no answer. Mason kicked on the door and tried the knob. It was locked.
The lawyer stepped to the window, turned on his flashlight, and directed the beam at the interior.
“I wouldn’t do that, Perry,” Drake warned. “It’s dangerous as hell. He could shoot at that flashlight and—”
Mason said, “Save it, Paul. I want action,” and kicked in the window.
The crash of breaking glass sounded startlingly loud in the silence of the mountain night. Mason reached in through the broken pane, unlocked the window, raised the sash, and crawled through. “Coming, Paul?” he asked.
Drake hesitated for a moment, then slid through the window after Mason.
The lawyer directed the beam of his flashlight around the cabin, found a light switch, and snapped on the lights.
“You know what a spot we’ll be in if we’re caught at this,” Drake said.