He settled for parking it out of sight behind the studio, covered by a tarp; should anyone come upon it there, it would merely seem to be in storage. Having closed and locked the house, he retreated to a distance to judge the effect. Yes, the property looked convincingly deserted. Farther up the drive, he reset the switch for his warning buzzer, installing a new thread. Satisfied, he went back to the garden shed and spent the rest of the day there. Unlikely as it was that anyone would show up so soon, it was safer to be careful. In fact, not even a rabbit stirred during the long hours Greg watched and waited, but that was okay; he figured it was valuable practice. In the early evening, when it seemed a visitor was least likely to arrive—they’d either come in full light when they could see properly, or in pitch dark to be hidden—Greg retreated to the house. Without putting on any lights, he made supper, used the bathroom, and finished all the preparations for his first night.
