Approaching Loss

The window slid up easily on his first attempt. Candy smiled and tried to catch Les’s eye, but his face was like stone, concentrating on what had to be done. He was on a mission.

Candy was still pleased that the window opened so smoothly for them. Earlier in the day, she had been inside and unlocked it and tried it a few times before squirting some puffs of graphite into the grooves in which it slid. Later, while working in the garden, she watered the area just outside the window for ten minutes; until the Texas dust turned to mud.

Now, while it was dark, she could still feel that her boots sank into the muddy ground, leaving the marks that she had planned for. Wearing one of Les’s old camouflage jackets, she must have been carrying 25 lbs of rocks, some in all the pockets, and they helped the oversized boots she wore to make the unladylike impressions that she knew would draw the investigators away from her; and to the idea that two men had entered via the window.

Les climbed into the living room silently…..and reached back to help her. Before he offered his hand, she saw him bring it to his mouth with his index finger to his lips…. SHH.

He was a big man and even with the extra weight of the rocks she carried he almost lifted her through the open window. They stood very still and silent, listening for sounds in the house. When they were sure that they hadn’t been heard, she led the way to the nouveau-riche Grand Staircase that hugged the curved wall as it climbed to the second floor bedrooms; and they began to tread slowly and carefully on the plush carpeted stairs.

When they reached the landing, she stopped again, wary. But Les nudged her….’which door?’ his hands seemed to say as they arced around the landing. She pointed to the end door, mostly closed but still allowing the faint bluish light from the muted television to flicker through into the corridor.

He pushed her ahead of him and they quietly moved across the deep pile carpet of the upper landing. She put a hand on the slightly ajar door and it gave easily on its hinges; silently revealing the king-size bed containing her sleeping parents and the big projection TV that was on the opposite wall. Les moved in quickly behind and then past her and stood at the foot of the bed. As his hand came up and extended out away from his body, she saw the ugly bulk of the gun.

A sudden wave of nausea coursed through her and she feared that she was going to vomit. As the gorge rose in her throat she blundered out the door and towards the stairs. All thought of stealth had left her and she careened from wall to railing and back, gagging, the stones in her pocket sounding like cannons to her as they banged against the hall table that she almost upset.

Les never even looked in her direction, so concentrated was he on the couple asleep and snoring lightly on the bed. But, as Candy began her coughing, choking descent of the stairs, they stirred slightly. What caught Les’s eye though was movement at his feet, movement in the rumpled comforter that had been kicked off the bed in the humid Houston evening. They owned no animals……oh no, not the kids?! No time to look. Not anymore.

John opened his left eye and Les shot him right through it. Then he fired two more slugs into the head that had snapped back onto the pillow and he swept the .45 toward Ethel who moved as slowly as if this was his dream. She never even looked toward him, but instead at John, in utter disbelief, when the first round slammed her head back down to the mattress. Les put the requisite two more rounds into her head and then turned quickly and left the room.

Candy had made it through the living room, almost back to the window, but was heaving and gasping for breath. Les grabbed her upper arm as he went by and his strength swept her onto her tip toes as they closed in on the window. He nearly threw her through it, but held on to and steadied her as she crossed the sill to the outside so that she didn’t fall into the mud. By the time she had her balance, he was through the window like a cat and had her again by the arm. She toe danced at his side as he walked very fast across the backyards toward where they had left the car, two blocks to the east.

They drove carefully, but not so slow as to attract attention in the early morning hours as they left Millionaire’s Row behind them.  He braked to a halt on the empty bridge and got out quickly, leaving his door open. He moved swiftly to the opposite lane and the wall beyond, breaking into the balletic run of the javelin thrower as he used the momentum to hurl the gun as far as he could, out over the water below. The moment that it had left his hand he pivoted and returned to the car, sliding into the seat, pulling the door closed, dropping it into gear all in one fluid motion, and they were moving again.

They had a party to get to….it would probably last all night, but they didn’t want to be late. They needed people to see and remember them there. He glanced at her. She was shaking her long hair out from under the watch cap that had kept it controlled. She caught his eye, and laughed.