Deception

by Dan Lawton

  I can hear Frank screwing around in the front as I make my way back toward him and George, and I scold him for that. After a brief confrontation, I drop the duffle bag to the ground and start pulling out the goods. I hand a mask each to George and Frank, then I strap mine around my face. I pull the straps tight and secure the ventilation filter over my nose and mouth. I slip the two vials into my pocket and hand the mallet and steel bar to George before standing and approaching the front door.

  After a few unsuccessful attempts to pry the front door open by wedging the crowbar into the frame and knocking on it with the rubber mallet, I give Frank a subtle nod. I step back and suggest for George to do the same, and admire the damage as Frank throws his giant frame through the front door. Frank grunts on the floor inside the house with the door lying beneath him. I walk over to him and whisper in his ear.

  “Nice job, Frank. You did good.” I pat him on his head as I make my way into the house. I find the light embedded into the drywall near the door and flick on the lights. The living room fills with light and illuminates around Snake’s lifeless body as it lays face first on the carpeted hallway.

  I breathe slowly through my mask to ensure the filter is engaged properly, then I approach the body. My heart starts to race, and I hope the plan has worked. It looks like it has. To confirm, I crouch down next to Snake and reach for a pulse on his neck with two fingers. I feel around in multiple spots on his neck before finding a dull pulsation just below his cheekbone. Truthfully, I’m a little bit disappointed, but I try not to show it. I turn to Frank and George, both of whom are gazing at what they think is a dead body from across the room.

  “Well, he’s not dead yet, but he’s barely alive,” I say.

  “You want me to take care of him?” Frank asks.

  I pause for a moment, as I’m not quite sure of our next move yet. I had fully expected Snake would be dead from the exposure already. Considering how his body is in the hallway and the house was completely dark, I’m able to hypothesize what happened: Shortly after Snake got back home, he began to feel the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. It started with a minor headache that gradually worsened and progressed into symptoms of nausea and dizziness. I figure he was getting ready for bed early and passed out on his way to the bathroom. Either that, or he didn’t even make it halfway down the hall before succumbing to the toxicity shortly after his arrival back home. If the poison was strong enough to knock him unconscious so quickly, it should have been strong enough to kill him already too. Plus, that doesn’t explain the total darkness. Who comes home and the leaves the lights off?

  I’m sticking with scenario one.

  “No, not yet. I’ll tell you when,” I say, then I walk over Snake’s torso and into the bedroom. Knowing exactly what I’m looking for, I cross the room and lift the painting from the wall. I didn’t get a long look at it before, so seeing the size of the safe takes me off guard. It’s a lot smaller than I had expected, and concerns about it actually containing the cash do cross my mind. Putting those thoughts aside, I leave the room and head outside.

  My police issued flashlight leads the way out the busted front door and around to the side of the house. A few stars above my head try their best to help too. I knock on the glass of the lone window in the bedroom with the butt of the flashlight, and George responds by slowly knocking the steel bar on the front of the safe. I put my ear on the vinyl siding and listen for the ping. I slide to where I estimate the safe is on the wall, and when I hear the tinny ping, I tap on the wall.

  I rest the flashlight on the windowsill and aim it in the direction of my target. The angle isn’t perfect, but I’m not looking for a clean disassembly, so it’s plenty good enough. I remove the crowbar from the duffel bag and aggressively jam it into the vinyl. It’s not particularly difficult to remove vinyl siding, as it’s flexible and tends to crack easily, so my progress is quick. It’s not long before George joins me outside, and most of the siding is already removed from the area I need by the time he does.

  The wooden studs are more difficult to chisel away, although the teeth of the crowbar do grab large chunks when enough force is applied. It only takes me a few good swings to chip away enough of the surrounding studs to gain access to the back of the safe. I recognize the brand as a common one from the stamp on the bottom left corner, and it’s a good one. Most safes are protected from fire, and this is one is no different. No safe is protected from the heat that ignited thermite gives off though.

  Using the thermite from one of the glass vials, I carefully rub the powder along the edges of the safe, directly over the welds. I avoid putting any powder on the back of the safe itself, as the last thing I want to do is put the contents it contains at risk. If the powder burns through the center of the safe, it may just melt the entire thing, including the cash.

  After warning George to step back, I remove safety gloves from my back pocket and put them on for protection. The heat this thing is going to give off might singe my hand right off if I’m not careful. I remove the magnesium strip from the second vial and crouch down so that my face isn’t in the area when the contact occurs. I hold the metallic strip above my head and slowly move it toward the powder. I do my best to steady my hand, but I’m unable to stop it from shaking completely. Perspiration is beginning to bead on my forehead, so I rub it away with my left shoulder. I push the magnesium against the powder, and they immediately spark upon contact. I drop the magnesium when I hear the concoction engulf and run to where George is standing some feet away. We stand in silence and admire the scene as the rear of the safe slowly melts away.

  Having heard the commotion, Frank joins us, and it only takes a few minutes until the rear of the safe has completely caved in on itself and only thin shards of steel remain in clumps. Using the rubber mallet, I knock on the sharp edges of the shards of steel that remain until I’m able to slide my arm inside without cutting myself.

  The safe is not very deep, and I’m able touch the back of the hinged door in the front with my fingertip before I get to my elbow. I bend my wrist down the hole and feel around until I make contact with a solid object. As I finger the edges, I can tell it’s not a stack of bills, and the disappointment sets in. I grab the object and pull it out of the hole, and I’m careful not to make any contact with the still scorching edges of the safe.

  A brass key and a note with seven digits written on it are all that the box contains, and I’m pissed. I thought that this was it and that Alicia and I would be sailing to freedom in a matter of days. As the three of us stare at the box and its contents, it’s obvious now that this is going to involve a whole lot more than I was planning for. I’m going to be forced to utilize the people around me, and I can feel everything starting to slip through my fingers. My control of the situation is slowly dissipating, and I’m getting anxious just thinking about it.

  Not knowing what else to do or where to go from here, I go back into the house and tear it up. I know there’s no other place in the house that a second safe could be hidden, and I know Snake wouldn’t keep the key to the thing in the same building if there was, so I’m at a loss. This key could go to anything and cracking the code to the safe is going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

  I flip over furniture in a rage and throw the mallet through the drywall before leaving, but not before telling Frank to get rid of Snake’s body. How he makes sure he’s dead and what he does with the body is up to him, I just never want to see him alive again.

  On the bright side, at least Snake is out of the picture now, so part of the plot for revenge has been achieved. Not so encouraging is that we have no way of tracking where he’s storing the cash now, and we’re completely on our own to figure it out. I could keep him alive and try to beat it out of him, I suppose. Maybe the satisfaction of seeing him suffer, much like I have experienced since he took my father from me, would make the end result even sweeter. I consider telling Frank to forget it and to toss Snake in the van instead, but I hear a loud
thump as I start to turn around.

  So much for that.

  I hope I won’t regret this.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  GEORGE

  This is rock bottom for me, no doubt. I don’t know what has gotten into me, as I honestly considered killing him. It’s not his fault I suspect, none of this, but he’s not innocent either. I think the combination of everything that has happened is just too much for me now. At least before I found out the truth I had something to believe in and something to work toward, a metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. I had dreams of walking away from this whole thing clean and with Alicia and our baby by my side, but now that’s all gone. A dream may be not even be strong enough; I envisioned it as a near certainty. I’ve been played, lied to, scammed, and used and I feel like a fool. I was so blinded by this whole situation that I failed to see what was right in front of me.

  I’m downstairs tidying up in an effort to calm myself and clear my mind after my outburst. It’s been over an hour since that happened, and the downstairs is pretty much spotless now. I move the full garbage bag of earth, half-empty bag of grout powder, and the rest of the supplies Billy used to hide the cash under the floor just outside the back door. I leave the toolbox under the stairs so I can remember to bring it back upstairs when this is all over. It’s a long shot, but it gives me some hope that my life will one day resume with some sense of normalcy. The new grout around the tile is beginning to dry and it looks almost normal.

  Billy was right, I don’t think anyone would notice the difference if they weren’t looking for it.

  With my grandmother’s bowl in hand, I make my way up the stairs and into the hallway. It’s silent. I peek in the bedrooms, bathroom, and kitchen, then make my way into the living room. There is no sign of Billy or Alicia and Frank is gone from the couch. I move toward the front window and pinch the blinds open. The van is gone from the driveway. I don’t know where they went, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon. They probably just left me alone to let me cool down.

  This could be really my chance to finally get away. Now that I know what’s really going on and that they are just using me so they can lead the Zved’s on my trail instead of theirs, I have no reason to stay. There is no baby and no Alicia on the other side of this.

  It’s just me. Alone, as always.

  I just remembered that my car is still in the parking lot with the boot on it, so I’m not going to get very far on foot. Plus, Billy will undoubtedly find me and will probably kill me when he does. Either way I’m dead, so does it really matter? If I stay, at least I won’t be alone when I die. The thought of this is comforting, the not being alone part, so I decide to stay and take my chances and hope things turn around in my favor somehow.

  The sun has nearly set and the street lights have started to turn on. A vehicle approaches from over the hill in the distance. As it gets closer, I can see that it’s a van; a van, not the van. It’s the same style as Billy’s, at least in terms of cosmetics, but it’s darker. It’s tough to tell since the light is low, but it could be either dark blue or a shade of gray or black. The van slows up and stops as it approaches the house. Two unrecognizable men look my way and stare. My eyes meet with the driver’s as he gazes at me through the window. Something about the way he watches me sends terror through me. I’ve never seen him before, but I wonder if these are the guys that Billy was talking about: Snake’s men, the Zved’s, the guys who’ve been looking for us.

  I flick the blinds closed and try to not panic. My heart is racing.

  I’ve been doing exactly what Billy has told me to do for the past few days and I suddenly feel almost lost without his guidance. If this is them, I don’t know what to do. Is this where it ends? Are they going to kill me right here, right now? A thought crosses my mind and I can’t actually believe it, but I wish Billy was here right now. He’d know what to do.

  Slowly, I pinch open the blinds again and peek out through the glass. The street is empty. I quickly scan the street and look up over the hill. The van is gone. Whoever it was has left, so maybe it wasn’t them after all. I think I’m starting to get paranoid. The knot of tension releases from my chest and I take a deep breath. The feeling is short lived though, as a car door slams from the driveway.

  My gut reaction is to hide. As soon as I hear the door, I run from the window and go into the kitchen. I retrieve a knife from the counter, the same butcher’s knife as before, and sneak into the bathroom. From inside the shower, I can hear the front door creak open.

  My heart is pounding even faster and I’m sweating profusely. My anxiety has transitioned to legitimate terror and my chest is again tight. The tightness is squeezing my lungs and breathing is becoming difficult. I try to breathe in deeply through my nose and into the pit of my stomach, but the tension won’t allow it. I can only take short breaths that are sharp, painful, and very loud. My cover has certainly been blown as I can hear footsteps approaching from the hallway.

  Is it worse to die from a heart attack or from bleeding out from a bullet wound or two? The pain is equivalent I would guess, but there is something to be said about not having to suffer. I hope he just shoots me through the head so I go instantly.

  The footsteps approach the bathroom and enter the room. I squeeze the handle of the knife with all I have. Someone’s fingers curl around the edge of the shower curtain that I hide behind and whips it to the side. I shriek like I’ve seen a ghost in a haunted house as I fall to the floor of the bathtub. I close my eyes as a man leans over me and holds something in my direction. I grind my teeth and wait for it, but nothing happens. Slowly, I open my eyes and look up at the intruder. His hand is extended to me.

  It’s Billy.

  “What the hell are you doing in there? And why do you have a knife?” Billy says.

  I release my grip on the handle of the knife and let it fall onto the floor in front of him. I’m beyond relieved. I look down and notice that my hand is soaked with blood. The pressure from squeezing the handle so hard must have split open the calluses that had begun to scab over on my wrist. I wipe the blood on my shirt. I can feel the tension fully release from my body and I nearly start to cry as I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I reach for Billy’s hand with my clean one and pull myself up and out of the tub.

  “What the hell happened?” he asks.

  “I thought that was it. I thought I was dead for sure,” I speak quickly as I struggle to catch my breath.

  “Calm down. What happened?”

  “I think I saw them.”

  “Saw who?”

  “The guys that have been following us.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “There was a van that drove by with two guys inside. They were staring at the house.”

  “Did they see you?”

  “I think so.”

  Billy puts his hands on his head and paces in circles. “Shit. Okay. Are you sure it was them?”

  “I don’t know who they are, so no, I’m not sure! All I know is that these two guys were staring at me and that they looked like they wanted to kill me.”

  “What were they driving?”

  “I already told you, a van. A van like yours. It was dark, maybe blue or black. It was like five minutes ago, maybe less.”

  Billy nods and peeks at his watch. “And you’re sure they saw you?”

  My breathing has slowed and I’m able to feel my chest deflating. I nod my head. “He was staring right at me.”

  “Okay, come with me. I have a plan to get us out of here.” Billy starts toward the door and waits for me to follow.

  I’m a bit reluctant, so I pause. That’s how I play it off anyhow. I realize I have no better alternative than to follow his lead again, but I want to make him think I’m actually contemplating my options. I connect with Billy’s eyes and hold for a moment as I try my best to maintain the suspense in regards to what I’ll do next. It’s all an act though, as deep inside I know that is exactly what I was hoping he’d
say.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  BILLY

  After the dust settles and my mind clears, I start compiling a new plan. The next logical thing to do here is figure out what the hell that seven digit number is all about. The number will lead us to the purpose of the key, I’m almost certain about that. I’m deep in thought, so I don’t bother responding to Frank’s question from the back in regards to where I’m taking us. I wish I had a notepad so I could jot down all of the things I want to look up, but I don’t. Staying quiet will help me keep the information organized in my mind until we arrive, so I drive in silence.

  I pull up in front of the new police station in the center of town and get out of the van. Frank panics as he doesn’t have a clue on why I would bring us here, but he relaxes a bit when I tell him to stay in the van. George follows me inside to help me brainstorm while I do some research in the database.

  After waiting a few minutes for the computer to turn on in my cubicle and shoeing away officer Dave with some unenthusiastic small talk, I’m ready to do some research. I had left my machine on when I left the office a couple of days ago, so it’s peculiar that it’s has been turned off, but I try to ignore the conspiracy theories that scroll through my brain.

  The first search I do in the county database is for license plates. All non-vanity issued license plates have seven digits, so it’s a logical place to start. There are no exact matches, so I scramble the digits and search again. I repeat the process until each of the digit combinations have been entered, and no exact matches occur. With no success, I go back and revisit the partial hits, which don’t provide much in terms of useful information either.