Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

would not only be understandable but forgivable. Still,
Johnson was a single-minded sort of fellow and a stickler for
detail. He threw open the door. Bernard hesitated but finally
went for it only to stop when he came abreast of Johnson.
“She’s not here,” Bernard said.
“Who?” Johnson asked.
“The night girl. Her car’s not here and it’s late.”
“The storm probably hung her up. All the better. Amelia
will catch it all in the morning.”
“I can’t believe Amelia left and didn’t wait for her,”
Bernard said.
“Well, since her car isn’t here either, I guess she cut out,”
Johnson drawled. “Doesn’t matter anyway. There’s nothing to
do at night.”
“But that wasn’t the plan,” Bernard complained.
“It doesn’t matter who finds them. It matters that they’re
found. You report it and the operation is done. They’ll have
this place cleared out before the fax is dry. They aren’t going
to put anything else in here for a while so we can hang out.
That’s the plan, Bernard. That’s what we agreed on.” Johnson
gave the man a little shove.
“Okay. Okay.” Bernard pulled his jacket collar up.
Johnson took Bernard’s arm and together they ran across the
yard, splashing through the mud, their pants wet almost to the
knees. They went through the back door and Johnson stopped.
“Take your shoes off,” Johnson directed.
“What?”
“If anyone wants to check this out, then we can’t have mud
all over the place. It’s got to look natural.”
Bernard thought that was the smartest thing Johnson had
said all day; he also thought it was a bit frightening that
Johnson was thinking ahead like that. Bernard removed his