by Mike Slavin
The last meeting of the day, one that Case had planned to skip, was a new deal being proposed to his company by an independent geologist. Buster could handle that meeting.
After a long, distracted day, Case had worked through Buster’s list. At about three, he decided to take off early.
Case was excited to see his wife and son, even if she was still mad. He stuck his head into Buster’s office. “I’m taking off. You can handle this last meeting, can’t you?” Case asked.
“Sure. Have a great evening. See you tomorrow.” Buster stood up. “Don’t worry about anything.”
“I won’t.”
Case started to call Becky as he walked out of the building and into the garage toward his parking spot, but decided to surprise her instead. He had a giddy-up in his step and was greeting people overzealously with a big smile that got a smile back from everyone. He was feeling good.
Oh, nice surprise. That’ll be more fun to drive home. He forgot he’d driven his Porsche, and not the Escalade, to work that day.
As he drove out of the parking garage, he knew that wine and flowers always helped.
Case stopped by the grocery store. His choice was red roses. He had the florist add some baby’s breath with tiny cloud-like white petals to contrast against the red blooms.
Perfect.
He grabbed two bottles of Robert Mondavi Cabernet and hurried to the register. Case stood at the end of what looked to be the shortest line of the three open registers.
The woman in front of him—early fifties, blue eyes, and attractive despite her age lines —told the checker she needed to keep the bill under seventy-five dollars. Case thought about the grandmother who’d raised him. This woman reminded him of her, dressed plainly but neatly, a sweater-type top and a long, pleated skirt that fell to her ankles. He thought about all the times he’d watched his grandmother at the kitchen table clipping coupons, then in the grocery store where she would always compare prices, trying to find a way to stretch the family’s modest budget.
Case looked at the checker and said, “Just ring it all up. I’ll pay for everything.” He turned to the woman and said, “You remind me of someone I love dearly and you’ve really brightened my day. Let me return the favor.”
She looked at him with a sheepish smile and squared her shoulders. Case could see she was a proud woman, just like his grandmother. For a moment, Case thought she would refuse his offer, but she nodded and murmured, “Thank you.”
Once the checker had finished ringing up everything, the woman put her groceries in a couple of cloth bags and started to leave, then turned around and hugged Case tightly. She smelled like floral shampoo. She kissed Case on the cheek and said, “God does truly work in mysterious ways.”
The twin sisters and Olivia enjoyed a great day of shopping, ending in a long, lazy lunch. Becky had told Michelle her secret when it first happened six years ago, but they’d never really talked about it much after that. But it all came back when Olivia was raped. Olivia was in counseling, and it had helped, but it was Becky’s sharing of her secret—that she had been raped while Uncle Jeff was overseas—that became the turning point in Olivia’s recovery. They never talked about it much anymore, but Becky and Olivia had an extra special bond, and Becky didn’t think Olivia would hesitate to talk to her. Becky wanted to always be there for her.
Shopping had been fun. Little Jeff received lots of attention. Olivia carried him around and played with him the whole time. Becky knew how proud Olivia was of her little cousin. Watching her laugh and act like a normal kid made Becky smile all day.
It was a good day, which only made Becky feel guiltier for being angry with Case. She planned to make it up to him that night.
Becky got a text from Case as they were finishing up.
Meetings all day, please pick up the dry cleaning if you can. Love you. Sorry.
Becky decided not to answer. Instead, she’d surprise him with a happy wife when he got home. She’d already picked up a small chocolate mousse cake with I’m sorry! written on it. She knew he’d love it.
Little Jeff was strapped into his car seat, and the sisters hugged. Olivia kissed Little Jeff and gave Aunt Becky a big hug. “Can we see you tomorrow?” Olivia asked.
“Sure, if your mom doesn’t care,” Becky said. “Uncle Jeff is going out of town again, so it’ll be just me and Little Jeff.”
“Thanks, fine,” Olivia said.
Becky looked at her sister. “I’ll give you a call and we can talk about it later. Oh, tell Trent and Mia hi for me.” They all waved and drove off in different directions.
It took about thirty minutes to get to the dry cleaner. It was on the way home and a little off the main road, surrounded by trees, with an old convenience store across the street from it. Becky pulled into the isolated area and was happy to find no other cars in the small parking lot. She knew she’d get in and out quickly, with no waiting.
She put Little Jeff in his baby carrier so he was resting against her chest, and then went inside. The smell was always a little overwhelming—not from the dry-cleaning chemicals, but from the lady who worked there. Gloria, who spiked her blonde hair straight up in front, wore way too much spice perfume. Gloria also preferred tops that showed off her ample bosom. Still, she had a heart of gold and Becky always enjoyed seeing her.
“How are you and the baby today?” Gloria asked.
“Oh, we’re fine, thanks,” Becky answered.
“He is so beautiful.” Gloria started making faces and doing baby talk, making Little Jeff squirm and laugh. “Let me get your clothes. I’ll just be a minute.”
Becky paid, then took all Jeff’s business shirts out to the car. Nursing made her extra thirsty, and she had forgotten to put a beverage in the diaper bag, so she headed across the street to the old convenience store with just the one set of gas pumps. “Let’s go get a peach tea for Mommy,” Becky said to Little Jeff. He smiled. “I think we’ll get one for Daddy, too. He’ll like that.”
4
“Don’t move! Don’t fuckin’ move!” the tall masked man shouted. His hand shook as he waved a revolver around.
Mr. Park, the owner of the convenience store, stood behind the counter. He threw his arms up, but his face showed only anger—no sign of intimidation.
“Put your fuckin’ hands down,” the masked man said. “I don’t want nobody seein’ you.” He jumped on the counter, barely taking his eyes off Park as he sprayed black paint over the only camera in the store. He sprang down. “The cash, now! Hurry!”
His partner stood watch at the door. He had his hand inside his jacket, fingers held like a gun. It was hot inside this mom-and-pop convenience store located on a side street that headed into an upscale subdivision. It was isolated and surrounded by trees, with only a dry cleaner across the street. No cars were parked in front of the place. They’d made sure to choose a slow time of day. “Hurry up!”
“I know who you are,” Park said in a thick Korean accent. “You worked for me, you son of a bitch. You’re Christian Williams. Krusty. Everybody called you Krusty.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Krusty yelled as the gun accidentally went off. The bullet pierced the wall just over Park’s head. “See what you made me do?”
Becky had just come out of the restroom and was standing in the doorway at the back of the store. She adjusted Little Jeff in the front of the baby carrier. When the gunshot rang out, Little Jeff jumped and started to cry. Becky jumped too and gaped at the two masked men holding Mr. Park at gunpoint.
Krusty looked over at the crying baby.
While Krusty was distracted, Park snatched a baseball bat from under the counter and slammed it into his back. The blow knocked Krusty to the floor, and he dropped the gun. He was scrambling back to his knees when Mr. Park came around the counter.
“Goddamn asshole!” he yelled as he swung the bat and pounded on Krusty. Krusty tried to take the blows to his back. Mr. Park, in one swift movement, pulled off Krusty’s mask and then kept pou
nding on him. “You think you can rob me?”
One of the blows caught Krusty’s head and he dropped to the floor again.
Three shots fired in rapid succession.
Two of them hit Park in the back. A third went into the back of his head. He collapsed on top of Krusty.
Krusty shoved Park’s lifeless body off of him. His shoulder and ribs hurt, and he had a knot on his head, but he’d live. He pulled his mask back on as he looked at his cousin. Ronnie stood above Mr. Park, looking down with shocked eyes peering out of his mask, both hands still holding Krusty’s pistol.
“I hadda do it! He was killing you!” Ronnie cried, dropping the gun.
“Shut up.” Krusty picked up his gun. “We gotta go find her.”
“Who?” Ronnie asked.
“The chick who came out of the bathroom. Didn’t you hear the baby? I saw her in the doorway. She saw me.”
Please, Lord, don’t hurt my baby.
Becky knew she’d waited too long. She should have run sooner—farther. The scene had stunned her and she’d thought Mr. Park was going to kill the robber. She’d seen the mask ripped off. It was a young white man with anger on his face, but the old man was winning.
Then there were three shots. She’d seen the old man’s face explode. Fear hit her like a lightning bolt. She saw nowhere to go. Becky crouched in the only place she could find—the back storage room.
Please, Lord, don’t let my baby get hurt.
Then she saw the back door. Becky stuck a pacifier in Little Jeff’s mouth and tried to soothe him as she ran toward the door.
She went outside, but it was completely fenced off. The only place to go was around the side of the convenience store and into the parking lot.
Will they see me if I run into the parking lot?
She’d have no chance at escape until the two men were long gone. Becky ran to a nearby dumpster and crouched behind it. She squeezed Little Jeff tightly with one hand and stroked his head with the other. He smelled so innocent. She tried to breathe quietly. Her hiding spot stank like rotting fish.
Someone came out the back door at a run, yelling, “Damn, where’d the bitch go? Ya see her?”
Krusty ran past the dumpster. Twice.
The other robber came from the other direction. They met near the dumpster.
There was silence. Then Becky heard the metal lid being lifted and the rustling of papers. The top slammed back down. Little Jeff jumped again and made a surprised noise. Becky crouched lower as she heard footsteps grow closer and closer. She could think of only one thing and she kept repeating it in her head as quickly as she could.
Please, God! Please, God! Please, God!
Then their eyes locked.
Krusty looked calm, a big smile on his face. “Your fault, bitch. You saw me,” he said. He pointed the gun at Becky’s chest.
As soon as she saw his dead eyes, she knew he would kill her. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, don’t. Not my baby. I won’t tell anyone, I—”
Krusty sent two shots through her chest. One went through the baby first. He knew mother and son died instantly. He stood over them, admiring what he’d done.
That felt fuckin’ amazing.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit,” Ronnie screamed. “We're going to jail forever. We might even get the death penalty. Damn!” He turned away and leaned over like he was going to be sick.
“Relax,” Krusty said, placing a hand on Ronnie's back. “Ya already killed old man Park. One more don’t make it any worse.”
Ronnie looked up, his face pale. “But I didn't mean to kill him.”
“Stick to the plan and we won’t get caught.”
They ran back into the store. Krusty didn’t even try the upfront safe. He knew that it had only enough money to run the store. The Parks kept a lot of extra cash in the backroom safe because they both gambled in private games. Krusty knew the combination. The Parks had always been too careless when they’d opened the safe in front of their employees.
“Holy shit!” There was more than he’d expected. He whipped off his backpack and began stuffing in the money.
Ronnie stood behind him, frozen. When the safe was empty, Krusty zipped up the backpack and threw it over his shoulder.
“Let’s go, let’s go!”
Krusty led the way out the back of the store to a hidden gap he’d cut in the fence. He went through, and Ronnie followed. Just before descending into a deep stormwater basin, they paused to catch their breath and take off their black ski masks and gloves. Krusty shoved them in the bag with the money.
“As soon as we clear this storm basin, we’re just two good-looking guys minding our own business.”
Ronnie nodded.
He saw a full two blocks to where they were going. The basin was a deep V-shaped pathway, with grass on the sides and an open concert runoff ditch at the bottom. The ditch was eight feet wide and always had some water in it. Halfway through, they would go through a circular culvert running under a street. They put on their baseball caps and pulled them down low to hide their faces from any street cameras as they continued their escape. It looked like a long way in the open.
“Ready?”
Ronnie nodded again, a distant look in his eyes.
Krusty was a few steps down the bank when he glanced back. Ronnie hadn’t moved.
“Come on!” Krusty yelled.
That caught his attention.
They took off at a run. Soon, they were at the culvert going under the street. No one was around. They ran inside. It was dark, but they saw a light at the other end. They trudged through shallow, stinking water that reeked of dead animals and sewage. Ronnie gagged until they hit fresh air again.
When they burst out of the culvert, the sun was blinding. They kept going, running at full speed back into the open-air storm basin. When they got to the end, they stopped to catch their breath before walking up the grassy slope to the top of the basin by the road. It had taken three minutes to run the two long city blocks.
“Ya think they’re following us?” Ronnie asked.
“Who? They’re all dead,” Krusty said.
“The cops.”
“The cops? Relax. Everything is goin’ just perfect,” Krusty said. “Nobody’ll ever catch us. The bus’ll be here in a few minutes. We’re just going to catch it.”
Ronnie nodded.
The bus arrived, just as Krusty had promised. They got on and sat near the back.
“Do I get my half of the money before I go back to Missouri?” Ronnie asked.
“Shut the fuck up until we get back to my house,” Krusty said. He looked around to see if anyone had heard them. In a few days, it might be best to let his cousin get back home like nothing had happened. Then he’d mail Ronnie’s half in a month or so.
Krusty made sure he didn’t leave a trail anyone could follow, switching buses every few stops and taking a taxi on the last stretch to Humble. When they got to his parents’ home, they went into the garage. Krusty locked the door and dumped out the money.
“Well, cousin, was that a perfect crime or what?”
“We killed three people. One was a baby,” Ronnie said. He eyed the cash on the table. “I shot a man. I may be damned to hell. Seriously.”
“I said relax. They’ll never catch us. And as far as hell, I know ya didn’t want to shoot Park. You were saving me, so just tell God you’re sorry. Ask for forgiveness, and you’ll be fine. I didn’t want to kill that woman and her kid, but I had to,” he lied. “She could’ve identified us.”
“But it makes me sick thinkin’ about it.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Krusty lied again. “It’s done. Forget about it. Let’s count the money.”
He counted as Ronnie watched. “$83,252.” Krusty grabbed a calculator from a worktable in the garage. “Damn, that’s a lot of money. $41,626 each. That should help ya with school, right?”
“I really feel bad about this,” Ronnie whined.
“Give it a rest. What’s done is
done. I’ll hide the money in this shoebox for a month or two, just to make sure no one is watching out for it. Then I’ll send you your half, okay?”
Ronnie nodded with a blank stare and no conviction. Then he murmured, “Yeah, I guess. I still feel bad about the people we killed. God, I hope they don’t catch us.”
“Look, man, it’s over. They’ll never catch us.”
5
Jeff Case’s silver Porsche 911 slowed to a crawl as traffic backed up close to the turn that would take him home. His oil business had provided a good life. The construction of his multi-million-dollar home on a private golf course had been completed last year.
Strange—there was never any traffic here. Must be a wreck ahead. This could take a while.
As he got closer, Case saw it wasn’t a wreck, or maybe it had been cleared onto the side street. Several police cars were bunched up at the corner where he would turn to enter his exclusive subdivision. There was a commotion down the side street, but trees obscured his view. The police weren’t letting people turn. When Case passed the corner, he saw a couple of ambulances with flashing lights and more police cars down the side street, at the convenience store. There weren’t any damaged cars or tow trucks. Then he caught a glimpse of his wife’s car parked at the dry cleaner across the street from the convenience store.
I’ll surprise her.
Case turned down the next side street and came around from the rear entrance of the dry cleaner. He parked and grabbed the roses. With a big smile, he walked around to the back of her car, so it shielded him from the store. When she came out of the dry cleaners, he planned to cry, “Boo!” and jump out with his peace offering. Case waited a few minutes and then peeked into the store. She wasn’t there. The owner sat with her head resting in her hands.