"When's the last time you saw Ricky?" Seth gestured with his chin for Tiffany to step back, and got out of the car when she complied. He reached under his seat for his clutch piece -- just in case a walk around Hope's house revealed Ricky waiting in the shadows to ambush her when she finally got home.
Not that he could imagine Ricky showing that much patience, but he wouldn't put it past his childhood nemesis to have a couple six-packs of beer with him, drink himself into a stupor, and be in a bad, hung over mood, waiting for Hope to come home.
"Oh, maybe about five this afternoon. He came back and banged on the doors until Hank came out to go to work. They had more words, then it was quiet." Tiffany followed him across the street, but she stopped at the little gate when Seth stepped into the handkerchief-sized yard.