Under the window ledge was a row of young azaleas. I dropped to my knees, scooting slowly the last few inches. The crunch of gravel broke the silence....I froze, finally turning my head to make sure no one was about. I surely didn't want a neighbor to find me out.I moved my head to the split of the curtain. My hand rested on the brick window sill. I pushed myself up a bit to get a look but I fell to the gravel as a loose brick gave way. Someone must have heard. I rolled under the azaleas just as. He picked up his radio mike. ‘321 to Jamestown,’ he said. ‘I’ll be 10-75 with a late model Toyota, color blue, single occupant, plate number Victor-victor-adam, four-five-seven, Freeway nine, near mile marker fifty.’ ‘Copy, 321,’ the dispatcher responded, and repeated the information Rod had given her to confirm that it was received and understood. Rod climbed out of his cruiser, put on his hat, and walked up to the car he’d stopped. ‘What’s the problem, officer?’ the driver asked. Rod looked. More

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