Samantha squinted through the field glasses at the house below. So far the only movement she'd seen had been someone turning on a light on the second floor. The silhouette of a chubby woman appeared in the window a moment and then the window went dark. Samantha checked her watch: eight o'clock. Must be an early riser, Samantha thought.
She adjusted the camouflaged netting around herself, resisting the urge to go knock on the front door and scream for the woman to leave at once. Mrs. Pryde-at least that's who Samantha assumed the silhouette belonged to-would never believe a crazed sister-in-law was coming to kill her. She would create a scene, perhaps bring in the local police, and then in the commotion Veronica would disappear and Samantha would have to flee before the Bureau found her.
She squirmed at the thought of using Mrs. Pryde for bait, but with any luck, Samantha would intercept Veronica before she got into the house. If only she had time to get a sniper rifle with a nightvision sight to do this properly. Instead she had to rely on a .22 hunting rifle stolen from the back of a pick-up in Seabrooke. At least the full moon would give her enough light to see by. She looked through the rifle's sights, wishing for a few practice shots to acclimate herself to the weapon. I'm sure I've used one of these before, she thought. She just couldn't remember where or when. She would have to trust that her hands would know what to do.
She looked through the glasses again, still seeing no sign of Veronica. She'll wait until it's dark, Samantha thought. She wouldn't be stupid enough to risk someone seeing her. This left Samantha with two or three hours minimum to wait.
She rubbed her face with one hand and yawned. Her vision blurred for a moment, the house spinning before her eyes. She tried to think of the last time she'd eaten anything. Not since waking up in Savannah and who knew how long before that. With as much running as she'd done since then it was no wonder she didn't have any energy. But she couldn't abandon her post now, not even for a few moments.
She put a hand to her stomach, feeling it bulge out until a roll of skin peeked out the hem of her shirt. I'm so hungy, she thought. Where was Mommy to take her out for ice cream? A hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and nuts and the yucky cherry on top. The way the fudge and ice cream melted in her mouth, filling it with sweetness-