Second Thoughts

by O'Keefe, Bobbie

  “It’s about time,” Moose said, crowding through. He closed the door and pressed his back against it. His gaze was directed upward and his breathing was rapid. “I’m not cut out for this,” he said to the ceiling.

  Connie had no time for sympathy. The kitchen had the outside door they stood in front of, then another one that probably led to a garage, and her flashlight picked out two hall entrances. The richer a person was, the more complicated his kitchen had to be? “You said the safe is in his study. Where’s that?”

  His head turned as he tried to get his bearings. “I’m not very familiar with this part of the house. But I think…” He paused, then pointed. “Through there.”

  Derek was the first one into the hall, stumbled over something, caught his balance and came up swearing.

  “Derek, use your light. Please?”

  Moose moved around them to take the lead. He had enough sense to snap his flashlight on. It illuminated a hardwood floor that Connie already knew was there because of the noise it was making.

  The third door Moose opened, he stepped through. “This is it.” The light played over a royal blue carpet as he walked across the room and then behind an oversized desk. Connie and Derek followed. At least they weren’t making as much noise in here.

  “And there it is,” Moose said, as if he’d discovered Aladdin’s lamp. A small safe sat on the lowest shelf of a standing bookshelf, and he knelt in front of it, knees popping. “Looks the same as I remember. Let’s hope he didn’t get smart and take that book out of there and put it in safekeeping where it belongs.”

  Now that she was faced with the night’s objective, Connie’s mind seemed to freeze. Her heart was thundering, and her nerves were in overdrive. It was difficult drawing an even breath.

  Moose didn’t move for a long moment. Then, swallowing audibly, he put a hand on the combination wheel. “Now both of you are going to have to be quiet. Back off and don’t breathe.”

  They became so still and so quiet, they could’ve been part of the furniture. The only sound was a clock ticking somewhere, getting louder and louder, and an occasional grunt from Moose. Straining her ears, Connie discerned the muted whir of the combination wheel as Moose rotated it, but no telltale clicks.

  Apparently, he heard no clicks either. He kept spinning, and Connie started fidgeting. Even Derek shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Uh, Moose?” she murmured.

  “Shh,” the big man said, and didn’t look up from what seemed to be his intense scrutiny of the floor. It appeared that his ear was connected to the safe.

  Derek’s hand enclosed hers, as if he thought that might help to keep her quiet. She forced herself to count to twenty-five, but then could contain herself no longer. “Maybe he changed safes.”

  “It’s the same safe,” Moose said. “Please…shut…up.”

  This time, she got all the way to fifteen. “What’s the problem? You said your buddy told you how to do that.”

  “I also told you he was my drinking buddy. Our powers of communication may have been somewhat impaired.” His dark shape moved as he looked in her direction. “Aunt Connie, could you maybe find something else to do somewhere else? Something quiet?”

  Connie closed her eyes and tightened her fists. Derek’s fingers squeezed hers back. She pushed her tongue against her teeth and didn’t try to stop herself. This time, she was determined to make it all the way to a hundred. The clock ticked louder. Her body was so tense that her legs hurt. She shifted her weight to one foot, then the other.

  Fifty. She had to make it at least to fifty.

  “All right!”

  Connie’s eyes flew open at the same instant the safe’s door swung back. Moose’s penlight came to life, illuminating a plastic-wrapped, thin magazine with a brightly colored cover resting on top of various envelopes and stacks of papers. Connie recognized the silver and black colors of SteelMan, but a small baggie of crushed leaves hid the super hero’s face.

  She and Derek stepped closer, barely daring to breathe.

  “I actually broke into a safe,” Moose said. He rocked back on his heels. “Damn, I’m good.”

  Then his head twisted around. “But now that we’ve got it, what are we going to do with it? I’m afraid to touch it.”

  “Me, too,” Connie breathed.

  “It’s so valuable, it must require special handling.”

  “Yeah,” Connie agreed. Fine group of crooks they were. If they’d robbed a bank, they would’ve forgotten a bag to put the money in.

  Derek unfastened the top buttons of his shirt, pulled out a manila envelope and gave it to Moose. “Put it in that.”

  Connie glanced sideways. “You are one cool crook. I am impressed.”

  She caught the quick flash of his teeth in his brief smile.

  Moose pushed aside the plastic baggie, then paused. “I wonder if he’s got a prescription for that.”

  “Purely recreational would be my guess,” Connie said.

  Sensing Derek’s frown, she glanced at him. “What?”

  He continued to stare at her, and she grinned, realizing how casual she’d sounded. It was her turn to read his mind. “Well, it’s been two years. You’ll never know, will you.”

  He smiled back, then gave her a decisive nod of his head. “I’d know.”

  Reverently, Moose slipped the magazine into the envelope, then handed it to Derek, who folded the flap and secured the clasp. He slipped the envelope inside his shirt, redid the buttons, and smoothed the ends of the garment inside his belt. Then he motioned to Moose, who still knelt in front of the safe. “Close that thing and let’s get out of here.”

  At Derek’s words, Moose shifted position, but only to reach into his back pocket. He withdrew his wallet, pulled out a bill, and bent again to place it in the safe approximately where the comic book had rested. Using both hands, he elaborately smoothed out the bill.

  “What…” Connie murmured in puzzlement along with Derek, and then she broke into a grin. “Perfect!” she said, and exuberantly smacked one palm against the other. “Is that, uh…” She squinted up at Derek. “Who’s on a ten dollar bill?”

  “Hamilton,” he said absently, frowning down at Moose. Then he said, “Nice gesture, Moose, though don’t you think it’s a little juvenile?”

  “Nope,” Moose said, unabashed. “He paid ten bucks. Money returned. Transaction cancelled.” His voice held a fastidious note that was incongruent with his position in front of a burgled safe. “Max will love it,” he added.

  “Yes,” Connie said precisely. “Very fitting.”

  Derek exhaled heavily. “If you two children are finished, can Moose please close the safe so we can get out of here?”

  This time Moose complied. And the same instant the safe clicked shut, three heads snapped toward the window, and every gaze fastened on the set of rolling, bright lights.

  “No,” Connie whispered. “No.”

  Moose had been in the process of standing. He knelt again, as if to hide from the lights. “It’s closer now. They’re on the grounds.”

  “Those are headlights,” Derek whispered. “Not the spotlight. And I don’t think the police would announce themselves with headlights.” He glanced at Connie. “Someone’s home early.”

  “But the maid said Friday.” The window was now dark, but her attention hadn’t moved from it. “For crying out loud, is it too much to expect her to get her dates straight?”

  Derek grabbed Connie’s hand and headed for the study door, pulling her with him. “No,” Moose said. “He’ll come in through the kitchen’s garage door—and he’ll see you in the hall before you can get to the front door. Hell, I don’t even know if there are any other outside doors.”

  Derek hesitated, then pushed the door closed. He turned back to Moose and threw his arms wide, releasing Connie’s hand. “Then what?” he snapped.

  Moose still knelt, with only his arms and shoulders visible above the desk. He ducked, disappearing behind it,
and then said, “You got a better idea?”

  A distant door was opened, closed, and footsteps sounded in the hall. Derek moved toward the desk, but Connie stayed put, searching the darkness for a better place to hide than behind the desk. Then she remembered her flashlight and clicked it on. Another door was right in front of her. She headed for it.

  “No!” Derek commanded in a guttural whisper. He grabbed for her but came up with empty air. “Connie, get over here!” He started after her, but Moose grabbed his belt and yanked him down.

  The door to the study opened.

  Chapter Twenty-OneConnie had made it through the doorway but didn’t have time to securely close the door. She held off, not even breathing, fearing the click of the latch would alert Hayworth.

  When he switched the light on in the study, she got a sketchy look at him through the crack between the door and its frame. He looked tired, not suspicious, and she allowed a slow, cautious breath. He also appeared ordinary, which surprised her, then she felt silly in her surprise. He was a middle-aged, respectable looking man who wore his years well. Because she’d heard nothing good about him, she’d expected to see…what? An ugly person?

  Then he crossed to his desk—where else would he go?—and Connie’s spirits took a nosedive. In the next instant her anger shot up. The maid couldn’t get her dates straight, Hayworth couldn’t be trusted to stay where he belonged, and her partners in crime should’ve had enough sense not to try to hide behind the stupid desk.

  The pair of men would have the upper hand, but Hayworth would recognize Moose, and possibly Derek as well. A happy ending to this scenario wasn’t possible.

  Hayworth stopped at the outside, non-business end of the desk, thumbed through the mail he’d brought in with him then put the stack atop the desk’s blotter. He rolled his shoulders, massaged his forehead with the fingers of both hands, and then turned back around. He crossed the room, switched the light off, went out and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Connie’s relief turned her as limp as an old piece of lettuce. She leaned her forehead against the doorframe and tried to realign her brain with her muscles. But Derek gave her no time; he pushed the door open and sent her reeling.

  “Just what the devil did you think you were doing?” His voice was the barest of whispers and held barely controlled anger.

  “Me?” she shot back, once she’d caught her balance. She stalked back to get in his face. “You could search forever and not find a worse place to hide than behind his desk. That’s where his computer is, and his safe, and his…his letter opener. Did you happen to notice all those envelopes that needed opening that he brought in with him. Of all the—”

  “Shut up!” Moose loomed between them, his voice a growling whisper, and he put a huge hand on the back of each of their necks as though he wanted to knock their heads together. They shut up.

  They listened to receding footsteps, then another door opened somewhere.

  Moose’s hands fell to his sides. He said, his voice low, very controlled, “Any minute now, he’s going back to the kitchen for a snack, and no way is he going to twice miss the unlocked door that should be locked. Now just what do you two escapees from the debating club think we should do about that?”

  “Unscrew the light bulbs,” Connie said without hesitation.

  “Huh?” blurted two voices. She sensed the decreasing strain in each man as bewilderment replaced his tension. And she also picked up on their shared suspicion she’d lost her mind.

  Patience was difficult to find, but she came up with some. “We can’t get out of here without dealing with him, so let’s do it on our terms.” Her tone was similar to the one she used when explaining a lesson to first-graders. “He’s bound to recognize Moose, if not both of you. But if he can’t turn the light on, he can’t see you. Right?”

  They stared at her for a fraction of a second longer—just like primary school students when faced with a new concept—then they parted to start locating and unscrewing light bulbs. Connie squinted into the dark, trying to remember the layout of the room she’d seen in the brief time the lights had been on. How many lamps? Where were they? She hoped there wasn’t an overhead fixture.

  Distantly, a toilet flushed. If they’d known that was where he was, they would’ve already been out of here. Now if the man would just go upstairs and go to bed, their problems would be over. But that wasn’t going to happen. His next stop would undoubtedly be the kitchen, as Moose had predicted.

  Another thought occurred to her. “Your voices might give you away, too, either one of you. So if we have to talk, let me do it.”

  From opposite ends of the room, their heads turned toward her. Derek whispered, “Maybe. But maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to let him know one of us is a woman, either.”

  Moose’s head turned toward Derek. “Might be hard to keep that a secret. She’s a bit on the small side.” He paused, then added, “And she’s also got a fuller head of hair than you and me.”

  Derek removed his baseball cap, came to her and set it on her head. She tucked her hair under it. “Remember the John Wayne impression I used to do?” he asked. “If we have to talk, I’ll do that. Agreed?” His head swiveled questioningly from her to Moose.

  The big man’s shoulders lifted in an elaborate shrug.

  “Agreed,” Connie said. Then the most obvious escape route struck her, and she squeezed her eyes closed in disgust. Oh, for crying out loud. She was stunned with her own stupidity. And the fact that she shared this particular obtuseness with her companions only made them dense times three.

  She raced to the window and yanked the blinds up. With eyes and hands she searched for the locking mechanism, becoming almost frantic when she found nothing, then her body sagged. She released the blinds and let them fall back into place. “Picture window. Doesn’t open.”

  “Could’ve told you that if you’d asked,” Moose said.

  Though their eyes had adjusted to the dark, she doubted he could see the scathing look she sent his way. He may have sensed it, however, because he turned away from it. She remained at the window. With thumb and forefinger, she separated the slats and stared yearningly outside at freedom.

  Behind her, Derek whispered, “How about in there?” His clothing rustled as he moved toward Connie’s hiding place of choice. “Let’s check out those windows. Might have better luck.”

  “I don’t think so,” Connie said tonelessly, and turned to look at him. “Our luck just ran out.” With a tilt of her head, she indicated the peephole she’d made in the window blinds.

  He stared back, then came to stand beside her. He stooped and peered through the slats with her at the man approaching the house on foot. The figure stopped. His head tilted at an upward angle as he most likely looked at the opened window on the second floor. Then his head lowered and turned toward the other end of the house, his attention supposedly on the lighted section where Hayworth was.

  Moose came to stand next to them, and Derek moved aside so the big man could see. Moose almost had to bend in two to look out, but he didn’t attempt to make his own peephole. “Oh, golly, it just keeps getting better and better. Is that who I think it is?”

  She gently removed her hand, and the two slats moved back into place. She and Derek exchanged a long look. The phone rang, shattering the stillness, and all three of them jumped. Full of dread and guilt and a looming sense of defeat, just as she suspected her fellow conspirators were, Connie stared at her companions.

  The shrill sound was cut off in the middle of the third ring. After Hayworth’s almost inaudible murmur, his voice rose in surprise. Then footsteps sounded in the hallway, passing them, heading toward the front of the house. The click of a deadbolt reached them, and a door opened.

  “Chief O’Reilly?”

  Connie’s head dropped. She rested her forehead on Derek’s chest.

  More murmuring, then the noise of the door’s chain being released.

  But why the chief and why alone? She q
uickly dropped that thought, however, because she knew the answer and didn’t want to dwell on it.

  “Next door,” Moose whispered. “Whatever room that is, it’s got to be better than this one. It doesn’t have the safe in it.”

  They crowded through the door, and Moose risked a quick flashlight search of the room, keeping the light away from the hall door. It appeared to be a library and was smaller than the study. Moose clicked his light off and pushed the connecting door almost closed, leaving it open by a sliver as Connie had.

  She wanted to go to the hall door to listen to the conversation between Hayworth and Kevin but was afraid to continue moving for fear she’d trip over something. Then once they became still, the muted voices at the front door became clearer.

  “…don’t understand.” The voice sounded peevish. “All I requested is a routine check, just like every time I go out of town.”

  “As I was trying to explain,” Kevin said, “it was noted during the last drive-by—routine drive-by—that an upstairs window was open. We didn’t know you were home, so that aroused our suspicion. But I see now there’s no cause for alarm. Sorry I bothered you.”

  Connie crossed her fingers. Maybe their luck hadn’t run out.

  “I haven’t been upstairs, so it must’ve been the maid. She’s done that before.” Irritation replaced the complaining note. “I’m going to have to fire her and start interviewing again. Do you realize how difficult it is to get decent help?”

  Kevin’s silence was eloquent regarding this age-old malady of the wealthy. The situation held little room for levity, but Connie felt a weak smile forming.

  “Since you haven’t been upstairs,” Kevin said, “it might be wise to check the whole house. As long as I’m already here.”

  Connie closed her eyes, not wanting to look at either companion.

  Hayworth said, with an almost audible shrug, “Sure. Why not? Like you said, as long as you’re here. And of course there’s no charge.” The front door closed, and their footsteps sounded in the hall. “We can start in the study, where my safe is.” The footfalls stopped, and the study door opened.