Asking For Trouble

by Simon Wood

  ALSO BY SIMON WOOD

  ACCIDENTS WAITING TO HAPPEN

  DRAGGED INTO DARKNESS

  WORKING STIFFS

  PAYING THE PIPER

  WE ALL FALL DOWN

  TERMINATED

  THE FALL GUY

  DID NOT FINISH

  HOT SEAT

  As Simon Janus

  THE SCRUBS

  ROAD RASH

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2010 Simon Wood

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Thomas & Mercer

  P.O. Box 400818

  Las Vegas, NV 89140

  ISBN-13: 9781612184050

  ISBN-10: 1612184057

  For my cheerleaders. You know who you are.

  Contents

  Making Ends Meet

  The Taskmasters

  For Medicinal Purposes Only

  Closure

  Fender Bender

  Dinner for Toby

  Big Sky Kill

  Prove It

  Protecting the Innocent

  A Gun in the House

  About the Author

  MAKING ENDS MEET

  “Have them live here? No way,” Richard said, shaking his head.

  His wife’s request wasn’t exactly a revelation. The writing had been on the wall for at least a year. The intervals between tear-sodden appeals for cash had become shorter and shorter, and the sums had gotten larger and larger. At first, it was the odd fifty or sixty bucks now and then. But recently, it was a regular three hundred every month. Michelle’s parents promised to pay it back, but he wasn’t a fool. Ted and Eleanor weren’t generating the kind of income to pay back their loans. They lived in a financial minefield of their own creation, and this time they’d stepped on all the mines at once—and the shrapnel was taking out Richard and Michelle too.

  It was so unfair. After five years of marriage, he and Michelle had just gotten themselves straight. The mortgage payments were manageable at last. The credit cards and student loans were paid off. They’d limped along for years with their old Corolla while they’d saved because they didn’t want another loan on their credit report, and they’d bought the new Honda with cash. They’d achieved all this through careful money management and sacrifice. He was so proud. They’d come so far. They were just starting to live the life they’d promised themselves when they got engaged.

  That was what made his in-laws’ screwups so much more galling. Twice Richard’s age, Ted and Eleanor approached money with a teenage mentality. Only a couple of years from retirement, they had nothing to show for their lives. Their crummy two-bedroom apartment was rented. The car was leased. Their retirement accounts and life insurance had been cashed in years ago. Retirement wasn’t an option for either of them. They would have to work until they died.

  Damn the American dream, Richard thought. That was the cause of Ted and Eleanor’s monetary nightmares. They had to show everyone they were keeping up with the Joneses. They’d spent a lifetime trying to project the image that they were at top of their game, except their lifestyle was built on credit.

  He was thankful Ted and Eleanor hadn’t passed on that trait to Michelle, although there had been problems when they’d gotten married. She’d run up college loans because her parents were unable to support her. Only that January had he and Michelle cleared the last of her college debts. But the nail in her credit report’s coffin was the credit card she’d underwritten for her parents when no self-respecting bank would issue them one. They’d maxed it out in months, with the promise they would pay it off. Of course, they never had.

  “They are going to be evicted in two weeks. Do you want them to live on the streets?” Michelle demanded, close to tears.

  “They’re adults. It’s not my problem, is it?”

  “Richard!”

  He snorted, getting up from the kitchen table. It wasn’t like she disagreed with him. She hated what her parents had put her through. But none of that counted when parental guilt was in full effect. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

  “You really want them to live here?”

  “It won’t be so bad. Why don’t you want them here?”

  “Because this is our home—yours and mine—and no one else’s. They may be your parents but they’re still strangers to me. I would never feel comfortable with them here. I would feel like I would have to be on my best behavior. I could never be myself.” He sighed. “You realize that our sex life would be over.”

  Michelle frowned. “Oh, Richard.”

  “It would be, you know. I couldn’t make love with them in the next room.”

  “Is that all you’re worried about?”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s just one thing. I don’t want to be paying for a home that your parents will be getting more out of than I will.”

  “Don’t you mean we? The house we’re paying for...My parents getting more out of it than we will...”

  Richard snorted again. “See? They’re not even here, and they’re making our lives miserable.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Tell your dad to get off his butt and get a job.” Richard couldn’t believe how old that comment made him sound.

  “He’s got a job.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s a doozie.”

  Michelle’s dad hadn’t worked a straight job for years, ever since he was “laid off.” He’d actually been canned, Richard happened to know. Ever since, he’d sunk thousands into late-night-TV get-rich schemes that had only gone to make someone else rich.

  “I bet you’d be singing a different tune if this was your parents. They don’t have jobs.”

  He sighed. “It’s not an issue, is it? My parents are retired now. They have good pensions. Money isn’t a problem for them.”

  “What if their pensions dried up?”

  “They won’t.” Richard paused. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  “Okay, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t want them living with us.” Razor-edge bitterness barbed Michelle’s words. “We have other options.”

  “Like what?”

  “We can pay their rent.”

  “What?” Richard was incredulous. “And pay their back rent, I suppose?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Well, you can think again.”

  “Okay, we buy a second home.”

  Richard was laughing. “No way.”

  “It’ll be an investment.”

  Some investment, he thought. His in-laws wouldn’t treat their “investment” with any respect. Every house they’d ever rented ended up looking like a war zone. They had never once had a security deposit returned by a landlord.

  “And how do you suggest we finance this twilight-years home for your parents?” he asked.

  “We can use the equity we’ve built in this home and take out a second mortgage.”

  “A second mortgage! Are you crazy? We’ve busted our asses to get rid of that second mortgage and you want to put us back into that hole? I’m sorry, no.”

  “Richard, my parents will be on the street unless we come through for them!” Michelle started sobbing.

  Richard plopped down in the chair next to Michelle and slipped an arm around her shoulders. He squeezed her to him. “Don’t cry, okay? Let me take a look at the situation and work through the figures.”

  Michelle threw her arms around him
. “Thank you, Richard. I love you so much. I knew you’d make it work.”

  Richard spent the rest of the evening with a legal pad and calculator working through the various Ted and Eleanor rescue packages. Letting them move in was the cheapest option.

  Underwriting their rent was pricey. He was looking at dropping at least a grand a month to keep them housed. Buying a second home was the option he liked most, because there was some return on their sacrifice. But it would stretch their finances to the limit. They could say good-bye to the Hawaiian vacation they’d promised each other. In fact, they could kiss good-bye any luxuries for the next decade. Michelle wandered into the kitchen.

  “Are you coming to bed, babe? It’s after one.”

  Richard checked his watch. He hadn’t realized. He was tired, but not from the lack of sleep. Michelle sat at the table next to him and picked up his notes.

  “How does it look?”

  “Expensive.”

  Michelle sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

  “Sorry.” Richard tried to smile. Michelle did likewise. “I think we could cobble something together,” he said.

  “That’s great!”

  “It’ll be tight, though. We’ll no longer be in the position to reward ourselves—the chance to see the world, early retirement—kids...” He let that one linger. “It’s all gone now, if we go through with this.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Okay.” She nodded. “What do we have to do?”

  “Well, you know how I feel about them living here.”

  “Let’s not go there.”

  “We could pay their rent, but we’d just be pouring money down the drain. However, we can just about afford to buy a small house.”

  Michelle beamed.

  “It wouldn’t be anything fancy and probably wouldn’t be in the best neighborhood, but I think we could do it.”

  “I knew you’d work something out.”

  “I wouldn’t be too happy. Maui is out of the question now.”

  She flung her arms around him and crushed him in her excitement. “I don’t care.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t care too much about cable TV, dinners out, going to the movies, or new clothes, either.”

  “I don’t.”

  “For all the fuss your parents have caused, it would be cheaper to have them killed.”

  Michelle was too wrapped up in the moment and hadn’t heard his joke. She cooed sweet nothings into his ear. But wait. He’d said it as a joke, true. It was an option, though. It was a solution, an answer to his problematic in-laws.

  By just thinking of having Ted and Eleanor killed, he was crossing a line, but as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t care. If he bankrolled Ted and Eleanor, he incurred their current debt and at least ten to twenty years of their yet-to-be-squandered debt. Long after his in-laws were dead, they would still be gnawing away at his financial future. With compound interest, he wouldn’t be free of their touch for at least forty years. It was inconceivable. Murderers didn’t serve that kind of time. He struggled to see the downside, pushing morality aside. He leaned back in his chair, fueled by rage at her parents. Imagining them dead made him feel better.

  “Come on, let’s go to bed.” Michelle grabbed his hand and tugged at him. “I want to celebrate.”

  “In a while,” he said with a thin smile. “I want to double-check a couple of things.”

  Michelle stood. “Okay, but don’t take too long.”

  “Okay.”

  He watched her dance back to bed, all the while contemplating murdering her parents.

  ***

  A restless night’s sleep hadn’t tempered Richard’s feelings—it had reinforced the idea as the perfect solution. Yes, he was going to kill his in-laws. It had been three a.m. before he’d gone to bed. He’d sat in the kitchen daydreaming, plotting their demise. While in bed, he’d tossed and turned—excited by the prospect. Stronger than caffeine, his ingenious idea kept him awake. Even in his unsettled sleep, he dreamed of murdering his burdensome in-laws. Surprisingly, he’d risen the following morning in fine fettle. He felt like a million bucks.

  Leaning against the sink, munching on a bowl of cereal, Richard asked as casually as he could, “When’s your mom and dad’s eviction date?”

  “Don’t say ‘eviction.’”

  Hell, what was he supposed to call it? Their “involuntary departure due to irreconcilable payment terms”? Eviction wasn’t a pretty word, but that was the name of the game. He tried again.

  “Okay, sorry. When do they have to move out?”

  “By the twentieth, I think. Can I tell them the wonderful news?”

  “Hold off for now. I need to get the mortgage broker to double-check my figures.”

  “Okay.” Michelle smiled. She was so happy. “Maybe tonight?”

  “Maybe.” He smiled back.

  I’ve got until the twentieth, Richard thought on the commute to work. I’ve got two weeks to kill them.

  He soon realized that deciding to kill Ted and Eleanor was one thing. Doing it was another. He had to decide how, when, and where, but nothing he considered sounded workable. He wandered through his working day as a passenger, cruising past his responsibilities. At lunch, he made the obligatory phone call to the mortgage broker and realtor and set them in motion. He went home that evening with his cover story, but no concrete plan. He found inspiration was waiting for him in the living room.

  “Richard,” Ted said, getting up to shake his hand, “you don’t know how much we appreciate what you’re doing.”

  “Very generous,” Eleanor echoed.

  “I couldn’t wait, honey. I had to tell them. Please don’t be angry.”

  “I’m not angry,” Richard said through clenched teeth, his blood boiling. “There’s nothing to be angry about.”

  “Richard, you’re my son now. What you’ve done for us elevates you way above in-law status,” Ted boomed.

  God forbid me ever being of your blood, you useless SOB. Richard shook Ted’s proffered hand, smiling as broadly as his anger and irritation allowed. “Thanks, Ted. That means so much coming from you.”

  “We can go house hunting together,” Eleanor suggested. “Make it a real family affair.”

  Over my dead body, Richard thought. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

  “We should celebrate,” Ted announced. “Go out to dinner. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds great, Dad,” Michelle said.

  “Great,” Richard agreed.

  They went for a steak dinner. Ted suggested Outback. Richard said Sizzler, because it was nearer—and cheaper. He knew he would be picking up the tab—and he did. Their last meal together might be on him, but it didn’t have to be an expensive one.

  He was glad to get home after seeing off his in-laws. The meal together had been good, though. It made his decision so much easier. Seated face-to-face with them, he had felt no compunction about offing them, but they had been a distraction. He couldn’t think seriously about having them killed when they were jabbering away in front of him. Their inane chatter prevented him from concentrating. Michelle slipped her arms around his waist.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “You know.” Her face filled with sadness. “I’m sorry we argued last night.”

  He pulled her to him and hugged her tight. “It’s all right. We’ve got a solution now. Last night is forgotten.”

  “C’mon, soldier. We’ve got some unfinished business in the bedroom. Let’s go.”

  ***

  For Michelle’s benefit, Richard pretended to go to work. He went through the usual morning routine of his shower, shave, and light breakfast. The moment he hit the road, he called the office requesting a floating holiday. He had to think, and he couldn’t do that with Michelle around or with the interruptions at work. He stopped in at the first Denny’s he came across. Much to the hostess’s annoyance, he insisted on a booth rather than eating at the counter
. He ordered and gazed out the window at the freeway traffic whipping by below.

  He needed a killer, a hit man, but where was he going to find one? He didn’t have a clue. Even if he did find one, how the hell would he know if he’d found a good one? It wasn’t like he could pick up a copy of this month’s issue of Best Buy—The Hired Killer Edition. Plus, an assassin was a loose end. It was a stupid idea. He wasn’t a mobster, for God’s sake.

  He examined his hands, turning them over and inspecting the calluses on his palms. He was good with his hands. He always had been. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t turn his talents to for professional results. Why not treat Ted and Eleanor’s death like any other DIY project? He could kill them himself.

  He warmed to the idea instantly. What would be a suitable death for Ted and Eleanor? He had to come up with something that would befit their lifestyle. Lifestyle—what a joke. “Style” was one thing absent from their lives. His waitress brought his breakfast.

  He worked away at his plate of cheese and grease. Ted and Eleanor’s neighborhood wasn’t the best. It was way better than it had been the year before they had moved in, but drug dealers and gangbangers were still a common sight. A home invasion wasn’t out of character for the area. He considered the scenario for a moment then dismissed it just as quickly. Home invasions were noisy and messy and required planning and probably more than one person. It wouldn’t work.

  “Simple solutions are usually the best remedy.”

  “Huh?”

  The waitress smiled and refilled his coffee cup. “You seem to be trying to solve a weighty problem. People always complicate things. Most of time, the simplest solutions are the best ones.”

  Richard smiled. “You know what? I think you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right,” she said and moved on to the next table.

  He finished up his meal and paid the check, leaving an overgenerous tip. His coffeepot philosopher had been right. Simple was best. A plan pieced itself together as he got back into his car.

  Richard parked on Hillcrest Drive. The road was deserted; not many people used the service road to the water plant. He stared down the hill at the run-down development and particularly at Ted and Eleanor’s rental home backing onto the hillside.