by Chuck Buda
Martin hated the way Graves treated him. It had reached a boiling point. He refused to take his crap anymore. His father found out that there was definitely a limit to his patience with all the belittling and suffering. The large man felt a sense of renewal had washed over him now that he made up his mind to give back what have been given to him. It would be a relief.
He threw another cracker into the empty pond. “You know, it’s not so bad. Dying.” Martin thought about it and continued. “We die each day. Maybe not our body, but our spirit. There’s always failures and setbacks which kill parts of us. We ignore it but only for so long. Then it blossoms into a reckoning. Like a butterfly coming out of its shell.” The body above struggling to breathe against gravity and countless injuries. Martin enjoyed the quiet night air here at the pond. The sounds of pain above filling in between the last of the summer crickets that didn’t get the memo yet about autumn.
The Debt Collector stabbed the meat on the grill with his serrated knife and offered it up to his guest. “You want some? It is very delicious, I assure you.” Without waiting for a response he snickered and took a bite off the end of his knife. The meat was so juicy and really hot, fresh from the flames. It was a little blackened around the edges but still plump in the middle. He chewed slowly, savoring the saltiness. Nothing beat home-cooked meals. He never understood why anyone would want to go to a chain restaurant and order something that was no longer fresh and of unknown origin.
Martin threw another cracker into the dark water. He had a little surprise figured out for his friend, Mr. Graves. The excitement was difficult to contain when he was so close. It was like trying to go to bed on Christmas Eve as a youngster. His mind switched gears to try to imagine what his guest was experiencing. How must it feel to know you will slowly bleed out while your killer is within reach. Watching the killer enjoy life while yours slowly exited your body. Knowing that you have moments left to live. Feeling your energy and blood drip away. Slowly. Knowing.
The large man stood tall to stretch his legs and fired another cracker into the pond. He spat a huge wad into the grass outside the gazebo. Stepping out to relieve himself, he left bloody boot prints on the cement. He unzipped his fly and let go a long, speedy stream of urine. The smell of it strong enough for him to pick up in the open air. When he finished he shook off and zipped back up. Another spit into the pond. The large man made sure his shirt was tucked in properly so his big belt buckle was visible. He reached down with his knife and stabbed the meat upon it. After he took another big bite, he began to giggle. He waved the meat on the end of the knife up at the still-living body as if it were a hand. Actually, it was a hand. The burnt and half-eaten hand of his victim. “Bye-bye, Moon-pie.” He waved the cooked flesh and sang in a falsetto voice, repeating it several times. The giggling turned into a small dance routine reminiscent of an Irish jig except without the grace and lightness.
The dangling body now added tears to the fluids that dripped down upon the gazebo floor. Struggling against the duct tape to be heard by someone, anyone. It made no sense trying to move the legs or arms again. Past experience proved much too painful to bear and with all the nails in place, the exercise would be fruitless anyhow.
“Well, I gotta go. You hang in there. Get it? Hang in there?” The Debt Collector was proud of his wit but no longer enjoying the moment. Stoically now, Martin tipped the grill over so the coals would die out on the pavement. He pocketed his huge knife and made his way to his truck up the street. The feeling of butterflies grew in his stomach, a sensation he hadn’t felt since he was a boy. It was a sensation that he only felt when he knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t.
Chapter 24
The hot water felt wonderful. Rachel enjoyed every minute of her down time without the twins. She loved the girls deeply but moments like these were rare. The steam fogged up the sliding glass doors and created a glistening, sweat on the marble tiles. She had already finished shampooing her hair and washing her silky skin. The last few minutes of each shower were the best. Just absorbing the hot water and cleansing steam in absolute silence. It was blissful.
Her shower was longer than usual tonight because she was preoccupied with Derrick’s promotion. Sometimes she thought that she worried more about his chances than he did. After all, she was the one who was affected most by their status. Derrick was too busy at the office to enjoy the fruits of his hard work. But she felt the actual results each day. At the country club, the ladies would make backhanded comments about how sorry they felt for her that Derrick was only a Director and not an industry leader like their husbands. They remarked how nice her car was and how they remembered having that same model when they were “just starting out.” Even the twins were affected because certain children were off limits to them through play dates based on their status due to Derrick’s job. It didn’t matter that they made hundreds of thousands of dollars a year and lived in the same neighborhoods and were members at the same country club. They were still second-class citizens. Rachel hoped that was about to change soon.
She knew how hard Derrick worked to even be considered for the promotion to CEO. He put in long hours and never hesitated to volunteer weekends and holidays to prove his worth. Rachel loved him so much. The man dedicated his life to giving her and the girls everything they could ever want. Of course, her current life was a step down financially from her father’s. Growing up she had anything and everything. Money was never a concern and the family was always treated with the utmost respect and honor due to her father’s wealth. Her father had frowned upon her engagement to Derrick because he was not from an established, wealthy family. Therefore, the proposition was risky because new money was not stable money. Rachel didn’t care. She loved Derrick and he treated her like gold. Not to mention they clicked in the romantic department, something she never enjoyed with previous suitors.
Rachel turned off the shower and stepped onto the fur bath mat. She toweled off her long, brown hair and admired her nude figure in the full-length mirror. Her silky skin was the purest white but not too white where it would require tanning. Her tummy was still flat even after two children. And the breasts were still full and perky which made her tingle with delight. Mommy had blessed her with wonderful genes. As she put on her bathrobe, she thought again about Derrick and how lucky she felt to have him and the twins. She loved her little family. The only thing that could make it absolutely perfect now was if Derrick got the promotion. Then Delores and Claire would have nothing more to say. And Beverly and Helen would finally allow Rachel to join their special group. Everything would be perfect.
She combed the water out of her long, straight hair and decided she wanted to have a macchiato. So she finished drying off before heading down to the kitchen to start the machine. Walking down the long hallway, she could hear Derrick and the girls snuggled together with a good book. It sounded like Chloe was reading and Madison was adding commentary. Derrick was quiet but she knew how hard it was to get in a word when the girls were around. They were so precious.
Halfway down the curving staircase, Rachel paused to center an 18th century oil painting that was slightly off kilter. She noticed that the wall could use a fresh coat of paint and wondered if a deep red would look better than the earth tones. It would definitely make the gold frames on the paintings pop. But Derrick might not go for it. His tastes were more understated, thus the sandy brown palette.
A brief chill caused her skin to dimple as she reached the tile floors in the foyer. She was glad now that she was going to make that hot macchiato to take the edge off the autumn air. She tightened the robe across her breasts and turned on the kitchen lights. The coffee maker was on the counter near the fridge. Rachel prepped the machine and opened the refrigerator to pull out the fresh coffee beans. A creaking noise sounded from the backyard. Rachel backed out of the fridge and walked to the sliding glass door off the kitchen. She flipped the light switch and peered through the vertical blinds into the backyard. The gate was swing
ing open but nobody was outside. She made a mental note to remind the lawn service to make sure they closed the gate whenever they finished. It wasn’t the first time they needed to be reminded. Rachel turned the lights off and returned to the coffee maker. Loaded up and ready to go she hit the red button but nothing was brewing. She had forgotten to fill the machine with water. She loosened the carafe and went to the sink to fill it up with water. Rachel felt like she wasn’t alone suddenly. The hairs on the back of her neck were raised and the goosebumps returned to her legs. She looked warily out the window over the sink. It was total darkness in the backyard and she laughed at herself for getting spooked like a high school kid at a horror show. She smiled and was about to look down at the carafe when a man’s head came into view. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized there was a man in her backyard, in the dark, right outside her kitchen window. She was shaking uncontrollably and let loose a blood-curdling scream.
Chapter 25
It was finally his turn. Derrick was so deep in thought while the girls read that he hadn’t heard them try to get his attention. He apologized and told the girls he was just tired from work. Derrick accepted the book from Chloe and cleared his throat to begin reading. He hoped his voice didn’t come off angry since he spent the last half hour contemplating his revenge on Michael Wright. He was shocked to find that the girls had read all the way through chapter eight before asking him to jump in. They had originally agreed to two chapters a piece. He wondered if the girls kept reading because they understood his mind was elsewhere.
Derrick began reading chapter nine when a shriek arose from downstairs. It seemed to crescendo and reverberate off the walls along the staircase up to the bedrooms. Then it happened again.
At first, Derrick was stunned into silence, his heart skipping a beat. The girls tensed on each side of him. He could feel their legs clench together and their little fingernails dug into his arms as they clutched him in fright. Derrick got past the shock of the initial scream and realized it was Rachel and she must have been downstairs. He hadn’t even heard her finish showering or walk past the twins’ bedroom on the way down. Had he been that far gone in his plans for Michael?
Derrick reassured the twins that everything was okay. “It’s okay, girls. Mommy must have seen a spider.” He handed Madison the book and patted her on the head. As he stood the girls looked up at him with eyes wide enough to use tea saucers as contact lenses. “I’ll be right back. Daddy needs to save Mommy from the big bad bug.” He joked and making a monstrous face danced like a wild creature of an alien nature. The girls didn’t really buy it though. He could tell by their faces that the initial fear was gone but trepidation still remained. The girls just nodded in unison.
Derrick turned to leave the room and then thought of how the girls must feel. He paused and started to close the bedroom door behind him. “Just stay here and I’ll be back lickety split. You’ll see. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll just close the door so that you don’t have to hear me crush and stomp the big bad spider into the floor. Okay?” No response came from either girl. “Love you,” he said and closed the bedroom door.
Chapter 26
“This is no time to pussy out, Mikey. We just kick in the door and go in hot and take him by surprise. He will have to give up the goods on Andrew when he sees our firepower and realizes the jig is up.” Murph was breathing hard as the adrenaline surged through his veins. He was in war mode again and it felt great. Memories flooded back to his time overseas. The war rage and the brotherhood. Murph recalled a moment when his platoon sergeant took a round in the belly. Without thinking, Murph had scooped up his sergeant, carrying him two hundred yards over his shoulder while still returning fire at the enemy. When the shit hit the fan, Murph was all business.
“No. We follow my plan. I will ring the bell and ask him if we can discuss what has happened between us. While I am inside, you come around back and sneak in and then wait for my signal.” Michael appeared to be calm on the outside but his acid reflux seemed to be working overtime under the stress.
“Listen, Mikey. I know what it does to a man to get shock and awe. They shit themselves and mentally break down to the point where they will sell their mother in order to stay alive. My plan will get results. Always has. Always will.” Murph was racking a round in the chamber of his 10mm.
Michael didn’t look at Murph. He kept his eyes forward through the car’s windshield. They had pulled up to the curb one house up from the Graves residence. They first argued about where to park the car. Michael wanted to pull into the driveway while Murph wanted to park up the street and hoof it in. So they compromised and Michael parked in front of Derrick’s neighbor’s house. “We do it my way, Murph. This is my mess and my children’s lives are hanging in the balance. So we do it my way. I want the responsibility. I need to be the man for once.” Michael resolved to take charge.
Murph finally gave in. He thought Michael was broken down and that he would need to lead him through this. Turned out that Michael was gutsier than Murph had anticipated. “Okay. We do it your way. But you have to be careful. This Graves prick sounds dangerous. He seems to be a move ahead of you so you don’t know what he might have waiting for you, Mikey.” He put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Graves might be expecting this so you gotta be cool and maintain control. The second he gets a whiff of a double-cross or nervousness on you, he’s going to make a move. You up for this?”
“Yeah. I am. I have to find Andrew. And stop Derrick from killing my family.” Michael’s voice sounded a little shaky but he steeled himself to the moment.
“Good. Now give me some time to get around back. I’m gonna need to clear the backyard and then find the optimal route into the house, all while going undetected. Do you know if he has cameras or alarms? An attack dog? Personal security detail?” Murph was shifting his head left and right to try to case the fenced in yard from the street.
“No. I mean I don’t know if he has any of that. I never heard him mention any pets and even though he is full of himself I don’t think he is so far gone that he has security guards. As far as cameras and alarms, I would suspect he has an alarm on his house. Most people do in this area because of all the money. But I don’t know if it will be on when they are home. Maybe they would only use it when they go to bed.” Michael was second guessing if this idea was so wise in light of these details that he had not even considered. He was in such a rush to find Andrew that he hadn’t spent enough time working out the finer points. “Anyway, it’s too late now. We’re here and Andrew is counting on us.”
Murph exhaled loudly. “Right on, brother.” He raised his fist to bump knuckles with Michael. “Be careful. I got your back, buddy. You had me at hello.” Murph attempted to end on a light note. Michael completed the fist bump and they both exited the car. There was no turning back.
Chapter 27
Murph ran into the shadows as quickly as he could. The neighborhood was beautifully landscaped so it had been easy for him to move from the curbside car to a large oak tree and further to a small outcropping of manicured boxwoods. He then slinked across the river stones to the arborvitaes that lined the white vinyl fencing. He couldn’t help but admire Graves’ taste in landscaping but knew that Graves probably didn’t even pick the shrubs. He probably just wrote a check to a landscaping company who did all the work of designing and choosing the species.
It had been many years since Murph felt the warrior spirit. As a stateside civilian, he only got fired up for football games or poker night at the VFW. However, those things couldn’t measure up to the rush of combat. The adrenaline dump coursing through the veins. The senses on heightened alert gravitating between an animal urge to fight or flee. The extra strength and almost supernatural powers that manifested in the muscle tissues. Butterflies in the pit of the stomach and the constant urge to relieve the bladder. War was hell but it was also the time when a man could feel most alive.
Murph could no longer see Michael. He was just f
ar enough down the side of the property and around the corner of the house so that he had no sight lines to the front door or walkway. He checked his luminous military-issued watch to make sure he was on pace for rendezvous. A quick glance around the neighborhood and the coast was still clear. He racked a shell in the shotgun and tried the gate to the backyard. It wasn’t locked. He slowly leaned into the door with his right shoulder while working the shotgun up and down and side to side. Everything appeared to be calm. No sound of an attack dog charging his way. No alarm tripped. And thankfully no light sensor aimed at the gate. He stepped through the gate and followed the brick walkway around the landscaping so he can tread silently and not trip over the random-shaped river stones.
The backyard was fairly dark with just a touch of moonlight peeking through the sparse treetops. The house behind Graves’ had their back deck lights on but the acreage was large enough that the shine came nowhere near this yard.
Murph scoped the entry points on the back of the house for his ideal route. There were several windows, a sliding glass door and then a windowed door on the far side of the house. He wanted to be thorough but he needed to move fast. The first set of windows peered into the dining room. The room was dark but ambient light from the foyer came through the attached living room. Murph made out an extravagant dinette set with high-backed chairs. The top of each chair was ornately carved to a stately design. Keeping the trigger hand on the shotgun he used his free hand to nudge each dining room window. They were locked shut as he expected. So he moved on.