by Jeff Strand
"Well, I ain't like most guys like me."
Maddox did not actually believe he'd get shot if he called the kid Edwin. Oh, the kid might try something, but being twenty years Maddox's junior wouldn't save him if they each decided that the other needed to die.
"So what have you got for me, Edwin?"
Edwin glanced around the bar to make sure nobody was listening in on their conversation, then he picked up a briefcase and set it on the table. That redneck dipshit didn't look like he'd carried a briefcase in his life.
He unlocked the case, opened the lid, and handed Maddox a picture. He could've just had it in an envelope. Must've thought he was in a spy thriller or something.
Maddox picked up the picture. It was of a blonde woman, probably in her early fifties. The bad facelift added more years than it subtracted.
"Sure, we can kill her, no problem."
"Rad."
"Is the word 'rad' back in use?"
"It is with me."
"Your boss doesn't have his own guys who could do this?"
Edwin shook his head. "If his guys did it, it'd look like something his guys did. He can't have that for this job."
"That's reasonable. Any challenges I should know about?"
"Nah. She lives alone. No security system. Just a dog."
"I'm not going to kill the dog."
"Nobody's asking you to kill the dog."
"I mean it," said Maddox. "Under no circumstances will I harm a dog. I'll let an orphanage full of babies burn to death before I do anything bad to a dog."
"It's one of those shitty little yappy dogs."
"Don't care."
"You guys aren't going to have to hurt it. She keeps it tied up in the backyard most of the time. Of course, if you kill its owner, the poor thing's gonna starve to death."
"I'll worry about that part. Anyway, yeah, we're happy to finish off this hag," said Maddox. "Seems straightforward enough."
"There's a little more to it," said Edwin. "It needs to be horrific. I mean, truly ghastly. We don't want it to look like a hit job. We want it to look like a thrill kill. When people see the mess they need to go 'Holy Jesus fuck!'"
"Gotcha."
"'What kind of sickos would do such a thing? Oh, God, what has this world come to?' We want them to question the very idea that there is goodness in the world. We want them to think you popped a boner when you did it."
"We can handle that," said Maddox. "Not our usual style, but we're flexible." He'd wondered why they wanted three of them to kill one old lady. Now it made a little more sense.
"And can you make it funny?"
"Funny?"
"A gory sight gag. A sick joke. You know, a visual pun or something. I can't think of an example off the top of my head."
"Think harder."
"You could write something witty in her blood. Or, like, cut off her head and shove a stuffed hamster in her mouth."
"Would that be funny?"
"Not ha-ha funny, but it would be worth a chuckle, I think. I'm just spitballing."
"Are you providing the hamster?"
"It doesn't have to be a hamster. I'm not supposed to be the idea guy here. That's why we're paying you."
"Amusing massacre," said Maddox. "Got it. You understand that if my partners and I go absolutely batshit on this lady, it's going to be national news, right? It increases our risk if we can't do it quickly and quietly, and that increases your cost."
Edwin shook his head. "You don't have to worry about that. It'll be cleaned up before any cops are on the scene. As long as you don't tweet about it, you're safe."
Maddox shrugged. "All right. You'll get your hilarious slaughter. Did you bring the first half of our payment?"
"Of course." Edwin glanced around the bar again. Maddox half-expected him to pick up another briefcase, but instead he took out a thick letter-sized envelope and slid it across the table. Maddox quickly slid it onto his lap. No need to count the money. If they were going to try to rip him off, they'd do it with the final payment. "All the other information you'll need is in there, too."
"Consider it done."
"You're sure that...bag isn't going to be a problem?" asked Edwin.
"My partners do most of the work. I'm the brains of the trio."
It wasn't a real colostomy bag. It was filled with water and chewing tobacco, which concealed a knife. Maddox had come up with the idea a few months ago before a meeting with a lowlife. He knew he'd be searched and wanted to make sure he didn't find himself defenseless if the scumbag's goons tried to take him out. He'd been secretly disappointed when the meeting ended without an attempt on his life.
He continued to use the trick at future meetings, even when nobody was going to search him. Hell, he had a perfectly good revolver tucked into his inside jacket pocket right now. But one day he'd tear open that bag and jam the knife into somebody's throat, and their shocked expression before the blade sunk into their neck would be worth the wait.
* * *
Three days later, around one in the morning, he sat in a car with Heck (who you could call Hector if you wanted to lose an eye) and Fletcher. They'd been parked in front of the house for about ten minutes.
"What do you think?" Maddox asked.
"Seems okay," said Heck.
Fletcher said nothing. He wasn't much of a talker, which is why he always sat in the back. He could talk, quite eloquently, but the big creepy bald fucker looked like he might only communicate through grunts. He was a valuable asset to the team when they needed to intimidate somebody. Usually they didn't—most of their jobs were simple B&E. A murder like tonight was a rare treat.
Heck was also creepy looking, though in a more subtle way, like a neighbor you'd wave to in the morning but wouldn't let babysit your children. He was ridiculously skinny and his fingers were double-jointed. The guy was constantly bending them backwards, and Maddox was constantly telling him to knock that shit off.
"Let's give it five more minutes," said Maddox. Something didn't feel quite right. It was nothing he could pinpoint; there was certainly no evidence that anybody was awake inside the house. Nothing specific that should've made him nervous. Waiting another five minutes probably wouldn't offer new insight, and in fact it would increase the chances of the lady getting up to take a piss or something. But something was off. He'd decide if he still felt that way a few minutes from now.
"Why?" asked Heck.
"Just because."
"All right." Heck grinned, exposing teeth that were too straight and white to go with his pallid complexion. He looked like the kind of guy whose teeth should be rotting out of his head. "Decide what you're going to do to her yet?"
"Nah." They'd brought knives, and a gun in case things got out of hand, but for the most part they'd agreed to make creative use of whatever was available inside the house. "Trying not to think about it. I don't want to mess with the spontaneity."
"I've got some bad, bad, bad ideas," said Heck. "I may need you and Fletcher to wait in another room for a while. Give me some privacy."
"No rape," said Maddox.
"What do you mean, no rape?"
"What are you, a frat boy? What do you think I mean by that?"
"Is that their rule?"
"It's my rule."
"Jesus. No harm to animals, no sexual assault, no kids..."
"I never said no kids," Maddox corrected.
"Yeah, you did."
"Nope. There's never been a 'no kid' rule."
"You'd kill a little kid?" Heck asked.
"I wouldn't go out of my way to kill a kid, but I don't have a personal rule against it."
"That's fucked up."
"I like animals more than I like crappy little kids. What's so shocking about that? Are you saying you wouldn't harm a child?"
"Oh, I'd kill a kid, no problem," said Heck. "But I'd also kill a cat and bang a chick who didn't want it. You've got a weird-ass moral code."
"I'd kill a kid," said Fletcher from the back.
"Good," said Maddox. "We're all in agreement on that issue. But since there's not a kid inside that house, it doesn't matter. Nobody gets alone time with her tonight. It's too risky."
"How is it risky?" asked Heck.
"It's risky because you'd be distracted. You can't tell me that you could be inside her and still fully aware of your environment."
Heck shrugged. "What's she gonna do about it?"
"She could grab a goddamn vase off the floor and bash you over the head while you were pounding her."
"Not if I did it after we got rid of her arms. Legs, too. I don't mind if she's a torso."
"Are you messing with me right now?" asked Maddox.
"I'm just saying."
"Without arms and legs she could still take a bite out of your face."
Heck nodded. "That's hot."
"All right, all right, so you're basically admitting that you're just screwing around. Nice. Real nice. Heck the stand-up comedian. That's what we need before a dangerous job."
"Three of us against one lady? How is that dangerous? This would be easy even if it was a solo job."
Fletcher leaned forward. "Are we going in, or are we going to yap all night?"
Something still felt wrong to Maddox, but he couldn't yet explain to himself why he felt this way, much less articulate it to his partners. It was important to trust your gut. But it was also important not to squander a big (and desperately needed) payday over an uneasy feeling that you couldn't justify. He could probably get away with postponing it a night, but what good would that do? He might feel the same way tomorrow.
"Maddox?" asked Heck.
"This feels wrong."
"How?"
"Just wrong."
"Like, morally wrong...?"
"Nah. Never mind. It's nothing. Let's go in there and make a mess."
CHAPTER FIVE
Adeline had read that moving was one of the top five stressors in a person's life. So, yes, the fact that she loved every minute of it was very strange.
She enjoyed packing up her possessions. Enjoyed going through kitchen drawers and discovering utensils she hadn't seen in five years. Enjoyed the game of trying to maximize every inch of space in each cardboard box. Hell, she enjoyed the sound of taping a box closed.
Though they were moving to a larger place and could bring all of their clutter with them if they wanted, Adeline enjoyed the process of getting rid of stuff they no longer (or never had) needed. Considering the size of their apartment, it was amazing how much was in the Goodwill donation pile.
Okay, she supposed that she didn't enjoy trying to keep Paige and Naomi focused on the task at hand. Naomi in particular didn't want to get rid of anything, even possessions that had been under her bed since before she started grade school. But despite the occasional daughter difficulties, Adeline found herself humming, whistling, or even singing through the entire process.
Her favorite part, of course, was getting to quit her office job. She'd given them the proper two weeks' notice, her resignation letter contained no profanity, and on her final day she'd casually walked out of the building instead of setting it on fire, but it was still a supremely satisfying experience. Yes, pretty much as soon as they got settled in Kirkland she'd have to start looking for a new job, which wouldn't be fun, but she'd worry about that when the time came. For now, she was just the bizarre mom who loved packing.
On a Friday morning, as they walked through the empty apartment one last time, she did get a bit choked up. They went from room to room, each family member sharing their favorite memories from each one. She was pretty sure Boyd fibbed about his favorite bedroom memory; she certainly did. Naomi cried as they left.
Boyd drove the U-Haul truck and Naomi rode with him, while Adeline and Paige followed. It would've been nice if Paige was three years older, because she could have driven their second car instead of Boyd towing it with the U-Haul, which made Adeline nervous even when she wasn't driving directly behind it.
While Boyd dealt with a presumed barrage of questions from Naomi, Adeline and Paige listened to music. Paige had promised to take her mother's musical tastes into consideration when compiling the playlist, but Adeline didn't think she'd done a very good job.
Four and a half hours later (thanks to several more bathroom stops than they'd scheduled) they arrived at their new home. It looked neither better nor worse than the pictures. Though it was definitely not their forever home, it seemed to be a perfectly good place to start their new life.
When Adeline asked how Naomi had done on the drive over, Boyd just gave her a pained smile.
They'd briefly toyed with the idea of hiring professional movers for an hour or so, just to help unload the U-Haul, then decided it was an unnecessary cost. Now that they were unloading on a ridiculously hot day, even for summer, Adeline wished they hadn't spared that particular expense. It wasn't as if an eight-year-old could help carry in her own bed.
Eventually all of the furniture and every carefully labeled box was in the proper room. They all sat in the living room, resting.
"When can we get our fish?" Naomi asked.
"Not for a while," Boyd told her. "Maybe next week. We've got a lot of other stuff to take care of first."
"Can I decorate my room any way I want?"
"As long as you keep your room clean, yes," said Adeline. "You're off to a fresh start. You've got a totally spotless room. If you try to keep it that way, tidying it up will never be a big deal, and you won't get grounded. Think of how amazing it would be to have your room a couple minutes away from being clean at all times. You'd never have to miss TV shows because you were being punished. This could be a whole new experience for you."
"Ha ha," said Naomi.
"I'm not kidding. This is your chance to always have a clean room."
"I don't like it when my room is clean."
"Then I guess the yelling and grounding will continue."
"I'm going to have pictures of naked men all over my wall," said Paige.
"That's fine," said Adeline. "As long as you keep them tidy."
"I don't mean pictures where they're in shadows and stuff. You'll be able to see everything."
"That's not a problem. You're thirteen. I can't make you decorate your room with tasteful pictures."
"Tasty pictures, maybe."
"I guess I'll have a reason to come into your room more often."
"Can I have naked pictures on my wall?" asked Naomi.
"Not until you're nine."
"They're going to be in ball gags," said Paige.
"Enough!" said Boyd, who was adorable when he was embarrassed. "Knock it off, all of you. Paige, no more Internet for you."
"I didn't learn about ball gags from the Internet."
"Then where did you—don't tell me."
"I learned it from—"
"I said don't tell me."
"What's a ball gag?" asked Naomi.
"Remember that scene in Pulp Fiction?"
"When the hell did you two watch Pulp Fiction?" asked Boyd.
"Paige, stop messing with your father," said Adeline. "The girls outnumber the boys in this house and it's not fair to make him uncomfortable."
"I'm not uncomfortable," said Boyd.
"You're sweating."
"We've been carrying boxes all day. No dad should have to listen to his daughter talk about gags."
"Ball gags," Paige corrected.
"Stop it."
"I'm sure you and Mom have one packed up in one of these boxes somewhere."
"Dad said to stop it," Adeline told her. "You always have to take these things one step too far, don't you?"
"Only one step?" asked Boyd.
Adeline ignored him and continued to talk to Paige. "When you're talking, imagine a big red line in the air, and each time you think of a funny comment try to decide if it's above the line or under the line. If it's above the line, think of a different comment."
"Don't you want me to be edgy?"
Ouch. What a terrible comment immediately after moving her daughter away from her hard-to-acquire friends. Great job, Mom. Nice going.
"Sorry," said Adeline. "I meant—"
Paige pushed up her glasses. "I know. It's fine."
Adeline started to apologize further, then decided to let this drop instead of digging herself further into a hole. It was challenging for Paige to make friends but not impossible. And that might all change in this new environment.
"Dad said I could reinvent myself here," said Paige.
"He's right."
"So can I get rid of these ugly glasses?"
"You mean laser eye surgery?"
Paige shook her head. "Just contacts."
The glasses weren't ugly at all; they were actually quite flattering on her, and Paige had loved them when they picked them out last year. Adeline knew that new frames weren't the answer. "Sure, if that's what you want. Can you handle touching your eyeball?"
Paige grinned and extended her index finger.
"We'll take you to the optometrist and see what they say. We can probably switch you over to contacts before school starts."
Normally this was something she and Boyd would discuss before making a promise to their daughter, but he was right there in the room and not shy about exercising his veto power. There was no reason, in this case, for a "We'll talk about it later" response.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Can I get contacts too?" asked Naomi.
"Your eyes are fine," said Boyd. "Be thankful."
"Can I have Paige's old glasses?"
"They'll give you a headache," Paige told her.
"Not if I take the lenses out."
"We don't need to figure this out right now," said Adeline. "We'll make sure everybody's happy with their eyeballs."
"I think we should celebrate our first night in our new house," said Boyd. "Who's hungry?"
Paige, Naomi, and Adeline raised their hands.
"How about burgers?"
"McDonald's?" Naomi asked.
"Nope," said Boyd. "We're going to find the biggest, greasiest, cheesiest, most bacon-covered burgers in town."
At some point, Adeline knew that she'd have to put a stop to celebrations that involved junk food, but tonight, big greasy cheesy bacon-covered burgers sounded fantastic.
