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sticker alerting him to its presence, but some of his best clients had been those living adjacent to homes protected by alarm systems.
    Nevertheless, Martin remained cautious and always left aclient’s home in less than fifteen minutes. No sense in taking chances, as remote as they might be. This time limit was easy to abide with long-term clients like the Pearls, whose homes Martin knew almost better than his own. But in a new client’s home, the fifteen-minute restriction often left Martin unable to inventory rooms and complete assigned tasks.
There’s always tomorrow
, he would think to himself in these circumstances (because he also avoided speaking aloud while inside a client’s home), and he would force himself to leave no matter how much valuable information there might still be to collect. Unlike in many jobs, when Martin made a mistake, it might mean the end of his career.
    Though he had hoped to photograph the Pearls’ home office today (Martin was in need of printer paper and staples), his watch was telling him to leave, so he made his way to the back door in the mudroom adjacent to the kitchen. In many clients’ homes, 1 minute and 43 seconds would still be a world of time, but the Pearls’ home posed a special challenge for Martin. Though he considered them one of his best clients, the Pearls’ home was closer to the road and to their neighbors’ homes than any of his other clients, and this made exiting especially dangerous. Fortunately, the Pearls’ backyard, a nice quarter-acre slice of grass and bushes that was frightfully exposed to the neighbors’ adjacent backyards, also abutted Mill Pond Park, a large area of grass, trees, playground equipment, and a public swimming pool, spaced around a quaint little duck pond. If Martin could make his way across the backyard unnoticed and pass through the row of hedges that marked the end of the Pearls’ land, he could be walking in the park in seconds, free as a bird.
    Making it across the backyard always made Martin nervous, principally because it was his only means of exiting the Pearls’ home. In every other client’s home, Martin had at least three means of egress and would use each on a random basis (rolling aten-sided die that he kept in his pocket to determine each day’s exit, since Martin found that unconsciously falling into patterns was far too easy to do). The only thing that made this risk even remotely acceptable to Martin was his comprehensive knowledge of the Pearls’ two adjacent neighbors.
    To the east were the Goldmans, a couple very much like the Pearls, who might have made excellent clients had their home not been equipped with three ADT stickers, thank you very much. The Goldmans both worked dependable schedules and late hours. Their home was not equipped with a garage, so Martin could always tell if Mr. or Mrs. Goldman were home sick (which almost never occurred). Therefore, the chances of them witnessing Martin’s exit during the middle of the day were infinitesimal.
    To the west of the Pearls lived Noah Blake, a convicted sex offender who had been released from Walpole State Prison in Massachusetts more than ten years ago after doing six months on a third-degree sexual assault conviction, a fact to which Martin did not think the Pearls were privy. Martin had been unable to acquire the details of the arrest, but he did know that Noah Blake’s mother had passed away shortly after his release, and that her son had inherited the house free and clear, something Martin had done as well when his own mother passed away. Other than his one apparent indiscretion, Noah Blake was a hardworking, reliable mechanic at Mike & Son’s Automotive in Plainville, where he had recently become part-owner with Mike’s lackadaisical son, Darryl (Mike having retired from the business years ago). And Noah Blake’s home also did not come equipped with a garage. Therefore, as long as Martin’s visits to the Pearls’ home took place between 10:00 a.m.