Mitch looked over at Brady, saw the dour expression on his face and delivered news that he knew would brighten his young friend’s mood.
“Hey Brady, we got the job, the one in Vermont.”
Brady sat up straighter in his seat.
“The lake job?”
“That’s the one, and your new girly lives there too, right, the nurse?”
Brady smiled.
“Her name is Mary, and yeah, she lives right in the same town.”
He reached over and shook Mitch’s hand.
“I know you only went after that contract for me, and I appreciate it.”
“That’s okay, kid, I’ve wanted to expand the business out of state anyway. We’ll make some great contacts up there in Vermont, and I bet you that we’ll get more business once they see what we can do.”
Craig gestured at Brady with his beer bottle.
“You’re just having a good time with that girl, right? I mean, you’re not really serious about her, are you?”
“I like Mary, and before you ask, yes, Shay and I really are over.”
Shay was the younger cousin of Craig’s wife, and she and Brady had been together for years, that is, until he met Nurse Mary Carson.
Jake stared at Brady with concern showing on his face.
“This Mary, are you going to tell her the score, is she the type?”
“No, Jake, Mary is as straight as they come and if she knew about the jobs we pull, she’d want nothing to do with me.”
“Too bad, it would have been good to have someone on the inside with medical knowledge, just in case, you know?”
“That’s not Mary, and anyway, we’re just spending time together.”
Mitch leaned over and grabbed more beers from the mini fridge on the floor.
“You’ll see plenty of her when the job starts, but that won’t be for another few months yet.”
“And how many homes are going up there?” Brady asked.
“Over forty, when you add in the clubhouse and the summer cottages, so the job will last a while, and man, you should see the figures. We’ll make a fortune up there. It’s the biggest job we’ve ever gotten by far.”
“Two fortunes,” Jake said. “I’ve been scouting around on the Internet for a job to do while we’re in the area and I’ve got a couple of possibilities.”
Brady grinned. “And I’ll get to spend more time with Mary.”
***
FBI Agents Curtis Weathersby and Ella Tyson stared down at the body of former police officer Gary Hines, and were surprised by how little he had bled.
Hines was the armored car guard killed by Brady Ross and it was Weathersby and Tyson’s job to find Brady and his crew, and in fact, they had been searching for them for the better part of a year.
Curtis Weathersby was a tall, good-looking black man, agnostic, forty-four, married and the father of a five-year-old girl.
Ella Tyson was white and a Catholic. The twenty-seven-year-old had never married, and until the age of sixteen, she had considered becoming a nun. Since that time, she had been with only one man, a former fiancé who was murdered during their freshman year at college.
Ella had recently taken another lover and he was her partner, Curtis Weathersby. The two of them felt an enormous attraction for each other since the moment they met and had fought against it separately for months, while not mentioning it to each other and often denying it to themselves.
Ella was not unattractive, but she was hardly what most men would consider a raving beauty, and it puzzled Curtis why he wanted the small, brown-eyed, brown-haired woman so much.
His wife, although a dozen years older than Ella, was still undeniably sexy and in her youth had been a swimsuit model, still, every time Curtis looked at Ella he longed to hold her, and he had never cheated on his wife before she came along.
They each gave in to their feelings after attending the funeral of a mutual friend.
After declaring that life was too short, they expressed their feelings, and then gave in to them.
Guilt followed, along with the vows never to let it happen again.
Since that time, they had been together every chance they could.
***
Curtis held up the clear evidence envelope that contained the lethal bean bag round.
“It’s our guys all right and this time we can add murder to their charges.”
“It was unintentional,” Ella said. “But accident or not, they’ve just made themselves a bigger prize, and I bet we get help in catching them now.”
“Oh yeah, this will make the front page tomorrow, and that always brings the heat.”
They stayed at the scene until the coroner had come and gone, and after talking to the crime scene techs and gaining an understanding about the explosives, weapons, and tactics used during the robbery, they climbed back in their car to return to the office for a scheduled meeting.
Ella spoke as she checked her phone for messages.
“I’m glad that the local cops are handling the notification of the guard’s family; I really hate delivering that news.”
“I know what you mean,” Curtis said, and as he spoke, he was staring at Ella while they were stopped at a light.
Ella took note of his gaze and asked a question.
“The meeting isn’t for more than another hour, right?”
“Yeah,” Curtis said, and then the two of them locked eyes and smiled.
Six minutes later, they were in a nearby motel room stripping off each other’s clothes, and giggling like children.
CHAPTER 4
Destination, Vermont
The Saturday morning after the robbery, sixteen-year-old Kimberly Aarons took off her robe as she prepared to step into a bathtub full of hot, sudsy water.
Kimberly was a strawberry blond with large blue eyes and a figure that was fully developed.
Kimberly lifted up her arms so that she could tie her hair into a bun to keep it dry, and before stepping into the tub, she took a good look at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door, then frowned at a slight blemish on her left cheek.
After turning on music, Kimberly bent over to test the heat of the water with her hand, and finding it satisfactory, she slowly eased into the hot suds and sighed.
Little did Kimberly realize that her sigh of contentment was preceded by the sigh of pleasure that her stepfather had made, as he watched her from his observation post on the other side of the half-inch drywall.
Steve Beck leaned one hand against the wall as his breathing returned to normal.
He was in the attic, the unfinished section that shared the top-floor of the three-story home with the converted bedroom and bath.
The space had belonged to Steve’s stepson, Tyler Aarons, until Tyler left for college and a frat house. When Kimberly moved into the space after Tyler vacated it, Steve, pervert that he was, saw a chance to profit by the new setup.
He had spied on his young stepdaughter on a regular basis ever since, and has even been bold enough to peep at Kimberly’s friends that have stayed overnight.
Steve reached down to pull up his pants, while being careful not to let the keys in his pocket jingle. Just as he began to zip up, he noticed that he too was being watched.
Through the tiny attic window, he could see his neighbor looking at him. Her name was Toni Hogan and she was the man of the house as far as Steve could see, because it was Toni and not her husband Greg who did all the work around the home, and it was Toni who had done the conversion on Steve’s attic.
Toni was standing at the top of a ladder with a handful of dead leaves in her gloved hand, as she had been in the process of cleaning out her home’s rain gutters.
I am so busted, Steve thought, but as he searched Toni’s face for the look of shocked revulsion he expected to see, what he saw instead was a smile, followed by a wink.
***
Back in Boston, Police Detective Harry Drake knocked on the front door of S
tu Tate’s pawnshop, just as Tate was hanging the BE BACK SOON! sign on the door.
Tate was a small man in his fifties who kept his hair dyed dark, while Harry was tall, forty-one, and had shifty eyes that looked out of place on a cop.
“Come on in, Detective.”
“What’s new, Tate? Have you heard anything about that art heist?”
Tate laughed.
“Look around you; do I look like the kind of guy that could handle a score like that?”
Drake didn’t have to look around. He knew the kind of low rent scores that Tate fenced and figured that something like that art heist was way out of his league.
“Do you have anything new for me, Tate?”
“How about a flat screen TV? It’s a little scratched but it works fine.”
Drake rolled back Tate’s sleeve and revealed a gold watch.
“What’s that worth?”
“About two grand,” Tate said, while looking disgusted.
“Is there an inscription on the back?”
“No.”
“Give it here.”
“Really, Drake? I gotta eat too, you know?”
“I could come back here with some uniforms and go over every item in the store, your choice?”
Tate took off the watch and handed it over.
“Here.”
“Good boy and you can think of this as a going away present.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means that they’re moving me to homicide division, so I won’t have time to deal with bottom feeders like you.”
“I’ll try to cope,” Tate said.
“Yeah, you do that.”
***
After Drake left, Tate’s visitor walked out of the back room. It was Brady Ross.
He pointed at the door.
“How long has that been going on?”
“A couple of years and I’m sorry to hear that he’s being reassigned, the next guy might not be as dumb.”
“I thought he was serious when he asked about the art robbery.”
“I thought so too at first, and let me tell you, I’m not too happy about that guard being killed.”
“No one is, but it was just one of those things.”
“Yeah, one of those things that brings down a lot of heat, and it made my buyer skittish.”
“But he paid, right?”
“I talked him down from doing anything stupid and Mitch already has the money.”
“Good, but getting back to why I’m here, I wanted to know if you had any Civil War items.”
Tate grinned.
“I never would have pegged you as a history buff.”
“I’m not, but my new girl is and I was looking for something to surprise her with.”
“I don’t normally carry anything like that, but what new girl? I thought that you were living with that tall girl, Shay.”
“That’s over.”
“Really? I’m surprised, I only met Shay once, but I could tell she really loved you. Anyway, I’ll keep an eye out for you, but Civil War artifacts don’t come cheap.”
Brady gave Tate a playful punch on the arm.
“My girl Mary is worth it; see you around.”
Brady turned to leave, but Tate called him back.
“One more thing, I’m sure you’ve seen the news and know that there’s been trouble. Two of Quinn’s men were killed last week and another last night.”
Quinn, was Sean Quinn, long-time leader of the Boston mob, and someone that Brady and his crew had to pay a percentage to if they wanted to not only keep pulling heists in the city, but also stay healthy.
“What’s that got to do with me,” Brady said.
“Quinn’s at war with a man named Carlito, and I received a visit the other day from one of his men, a scary looking guy named Joe Venta. Venta said that from now on, everyone pays Carlito the same percentage they’re paying Quinn, or else.”
“He’s crazy, and besides, isn’t this why we’ve been paying Quinn all these years, to protect us from rivals like this Carlito?”
“That’s true, but I’m just passing along the word. Some guys have already put the money aside, just in case, because you know, Quinn is an old man now, and he might not win this war.”
Brady frowned.
“I’ll let Mitch know about it, but I doubt he’ll pay this Carlito anything.”
“That’s up to you guys, but for now, I’m paying both, believe me, I do not want to get on Joe Venta’s bad side.”
“Venta, what’s he look like?”
“Dark complexion, black hair slicked back, thin mustache, and he’s got these dark eyes that reminded me of a snake’s. He dresses well and when he was here, he was driving a BMW.”
“Is he huge?”
“Not at all, maybe five-foot-ten, and he’s thin, but, I don’t know, Brady, there’s just something about the guy.”
“We’ll keep an eye out, and thanks for the tip.”
Brady left the pawnshop by the rear and walked down an alley to get to his car. He never noticed that Harry Drake was watching him from the doorway of a nearby office building.
Stu Tate had called Harry dumb, but Harry wasn’t dumb, just corrupt, and he had seen the shadows shift in the back room of the pawnshop while he was talking to Tate.
He didn’t know who Brady was, or why Tate wanted to keep him a secret, but he would make a point of asking Tate about him the next time he paid a visit.
Harry lit up a cigarette, and then he walked back outside and checked the time on his new watch.
***
Once he was inside his car, Brady made a phone call to his girlfriend, Mary.
“Hi Brady,”
“Hi baby, how are you?”
“Honestly, I’m a little sad.”
“Why, because you miss me?”
Mary laughed.
“That’s one reason, but also, one of my patients is close to passing away.”
“I guess you never get used to that, hmm?”
“No, but tell me, when are you coming here again?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow and I’ve got good news, we won the bid for a project in your town.”
“What project?”
“We’re going to be building homes around a lake; it should take over a year, but it doesn’t start until spring.”
“Oh, you’re talking about the lake they’re creating; I was just talking about that the other day, oh, Brady that’s fantastic and then I’ll get to see you every day.”
“That’s the plan.”
“What time will you be here tomorrow?”
“Around ten in the morning if the traffic cooperates,”
“That’s good, I’ll be working a double shift today, but tomorrow I’ll have the whole day off, but listen, I have to go, a patient needs me.”
“Alright, go do your thing.”
“Brady?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, baby.”
“I can’t wait to see you, bye bye.”
Brady put away his phone and just sat thinking about Mary, wondering why she affected him like no other woman before her.
She knew nothing about what he really did, about the heists, and he knew that she would never accept that part of his life, which would be a problem going forward.
I should end things with her, end it now before she wises up to what I really am, or, I could change, live the straight life, get married, have kids, then grow old and fat.
Brady thought about life without the action, the excitement of the robberies, and deep down he knew that such a life was not for him. He then thought about giving up Mary, and that too he found to be unthinkable.
He whispered to himself, as a revelation struck him.
“Goddamn it, Brady, you’ve gone and fallen in love.”
CHAPTER 5
Steve Beck’s face turned white when his wife, Donna, informed him that Toni Hogan had just
dropped by while he was out getting gas for the lawnmower.
Steve turned around slowly from the kitchen counter with his coffee in hand and studied his wife, expecting to see a look of disgust or anger, but as was usual on Saturday morning, she was fiddling with her coupons in preparation to go food shopping.
“What did Toni want?”
“She said something about the attic. She wanted to know if the work she did up there last year was holding up.”
“It’s fine, why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know, but why don’t you drop by and see her, she’s out in the yard there trimming the bushes.”
Steve looked out the rear window in the kitchen, and past the fence, he could see Toni holding a hedge trimmer. Her arms looked as muscular as his own.
“I better go see what she wants.”
Steve went out back and leaned on the fence; when Toni spotted him, she smiled and waved him over as she kept trimming the bushes at the rear of her yard.
Rather than walk out to the front and use the gate, Steve climbed over the four-foot high wooden fence.
When Steve reached her, Toni turned off the trimmer and stared at him. Steve stood before her and, as usual, he felt a bit intimidated. At six-two, Toni Hogan stood five inches taller than Steve, and had a self-assuredness that was rare and palpable.
The woman had curves to spare, but they were all so much larger than what Steve was used to that he never thought of Toni in a sexual way, despite the fact that she was good-looking. She kept her dark hair long, but wore it tied up in a bun and Steve had never seen her in make-up or even wearing nail polish.
Meanwhile, her husband, Greg, was a small, effeminate man who liked to bake and was a stay-at-home dad to their eight-year-old son, Richie.
The running joke around the neighborhood was that they were each other’s beard, if anyone still engaged in such subterfuge. How young Richie fit into that scenario was never discussed.
Toni owned her own business, Handywoman Inc. and she and her two employees all drove vans that were virtual fix-it shops on wheels. In an economy where new was no longer affordable and things still broke down, Toni’s service was a great way to keep the house from falling apart, and to top it off, it was a bargain.
The work she did on Steve’s attic cost a thousand dollars less than her competition would have charged; however, Steve now wondered what her price would be to keep silent about his peeping Tom act.
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