Jacob's Shadow
by Andrew Hammond

Chapter 23
There weren't many moves left. Jacob knew that. Most of the pawns had been taken off the board and his own queen lost. The game had entered its final phase, and now the question wasn't which piece to sacrifice -- they were all more or less expendable -- but when.

He shined his flashlight throughout the rooms of the vacant house. It was a perfectly serviceable tract home somewhere in the suburbs where the sun occasionally shone. It looked like no one had lived there for ages, and that was true enough. Jacob just took care of the bills -- any paper trail ended at Hobb's Cemetary up state.

In the attic he found the old water heater, cold now. He removed the top and felt along the edge for a nearly invisible strand of fishing line. Jacob hauled back on the line until he pulled a dripping plastic bag free of the murky tank. He took the flashlight between his teeth and opened the bag.

Inside was a gun, a clean gun. Its serial numbers filed and the rifling scratched beyond any possible match. The bullets all reloads with blank copper casings. No fingerprints.

Time for the next move.