Pay Up and Die

by Chuck Buda

  Next was the sliding glass door from the back patio into what he guessed was the kitchen. The blinds were closed which afforded him the opportunity to check the door. Before he tried to pull the sliding door open he saw the iron bar tilted at knee height. It was one of those sliding glass door safety features that most people, most smart people anyway, had installed to secure such entry points. He was frustrated because this location would have been optimal. And yet he was relieved because he didn’t need to waste any more precious time on this access. He continued along the landscaping toward the door on the far side of the house. As he took his first step the patio light blazed on. Immediately, Murph dropped to a crouch to the right of the sliding glass door. He was afraid he had been made so he hunkered down and prepared to unload pellets into whoever might discover him.

  The sound of the vertical blinds on the sliding glass door scraped aside as Murph assumed someone was checking the perimeter. A bead of sweat trickled down his bald temple and he took a long, quiet breath to level his nerves. It felt like minutes but only seconds passed before the blinds clicked into place and the patio lights flicked off. Murph sighed relief to himself. He remained in place for a moment more in case the person double-checked the yard. Murph wondered if it was Graves himself or some kind of body guard who was making their rounds. He quickly believed it was more likely Graves since a security detail wouldn’t be so stupid to make so much noise and show themselves blatantly for a bullet. More relief flooded Murph since we was most likely only dealing with Graves who, while a resourceful deviant, was not sufficiently trained to handle the type of shock and awe that Murph was going to bring down. Thoughts of Andrew and helping Michael flashed across his mind.

  Murph looked along the house siding through the landscaping toward the door at the far end of the house. It had all the signs of a door to the back of a garage bay. It had small windows and a cheap-looking curtain hung across the inside. He knew that if this door was locked it would be much easier to break in through a simple lock pick or breaking a small hole in the lowest part of the window. He continued to listen for movement. The garage lights appeared to be out so the coast was probably clear but he wanted to make sure. He checked the luminous watch again to see how much time had elapsed and estimate how far along in the “conversation” Michael was with Graves. The time was still good. It had only been several minutes and he figured he needed only five minutes to gain access to the home.

  Murph stood up to try to slink to the door when he realized he had been discovered. There was a face staring at him through the window. The scream was loud and it turned his blood cold instantaneously. He realized he had made a mistake. “Oh shit.”

  Chapter 28

  Martin couldn’t wait to unleash hell on Graves. He almost felt giddy with excitement like he did years ago when he killed his own father. The similarity wasn’t lost on him. As now, he had reached a breaking point back then with his old man. Too many insults and slaps and put downs. The eruption came when his father least expected it. Just like now. Graves would never expect that Martin would move beyond his silent defiance or occasional barbs.

  This night was bound to happen. Martin had enjoyed working for Graves because it fed his animalistic urges to harm people and prey upon lesser beings. It was the means to his end. Otherwise, if he fed his urges indiscriminately then he was just a serial killer. And that wasn’t who he felt he was. He thought he was more of a mercenary with an artistic side. A quiet, brooding muse for the dramatic. Yet, Graves had run out of his usefulness. He could find another excuse of a boss to work for. Someone who accepted him for who he was and admired his talents. Now, Graves had to go. It was the right thing to do. And the right time to make the change. The large man approved his business decisions silently to himself.

  As he drove up the street in his big truck he couldn’t believe what he saw. He slowed down the pick-up truck to a crawl. A car was parked up ahead on the right. But that wasn’t the interesting part. What had grabbed his attention was the bald guy with the shotgun running to the backyard and the other man who walked beneath a big tree on Grave’s front lawn. The Debt Collector smiled to himself that he wasn’t the only one who was here for his pound of flesh. This had gotten interesting for sure.

  Martin allowed the truck to roll slowly past the parked car. It was a small commuter type car. Older model and barely in fair condition. Definitely out of place in the snobbery development of Wellington Estates. As the truck kept going by Martin leaned over toward the passenger window to take a look at the man under the huge oak tree. It was too dark to make out fine details but he thought it might be Wright based on the thick head of hair and the general build of his physique. What a wonderful surprise this was turning out to be, he thought.

  He eased the truck down the street several houses beyond the slight curve in the road. Martin pulled the truck to the curb and killed the headlights. The truck was parked under another large tree which grew over the sidewalk. The spot was out of sight of Graves’ house. The excitement was causing his hands to shake upon the steering wheel.

  This was definitely going to complicate things. But how great was it going to be to fit in several people in one night. A true rarity. A special occasion to be relished, he agreed. He had to figure out the best course of action. With multiple players they would need to be put down individually. Who got it first? What order should he go in? Should he take out the weakest links first to narrow the field for the more resilient prey? Or should he work backwards and start with the strongest while the weakest cowered and waited until their turn arrived? Decisions, decisions. He giggled. These were good problems to have.

  While he figured out his game plan he fantasized about dancing in a blood-soaked orgy of dead bodies. Organs strewn around and walls covered in viscera. He immediately felt his groin swelling with equal excitement, straining against his worn-out dungarees. The discomfort of the strong erection snapped him out of the day dream and brought him back to the plan. He knew what he had to do and which order he would do it in. But he hoped it would go awry. The chaos of impromptu situations were really fun. It fed his creativity and allowed him to toy with victims like a cat and a ball of yarn.

  The large man took a deep breath and prepared himself for the big surprise party that was about to unfold.

  Chapter 29

  He sighed heavily and turned to go down the hall to the staircase. It was mostly silent now so he figured Rachel was backed against one wall on the complete opposite side of the room that the spider was in. She was so funny about bugs and germs but she could gut a roast pork loin like she was a serial killer. Go figure. Derrick rounded the twisting staircase and entered the foyer at the front of the house. “Hon?”

  “In the kitchen,” Rachel responded in a hushed voice. Derrick walked down the tiled hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. Rachel was crouched down on the floor with her back against the cabinets beneath the sink.

  “Where’s the spider? You know you are going to have to come to grips with bugs at some point in your adult life.”

  “Shhhh. Get down,” she said. She motioned for him to duck and he looked up at the ceiling figuring the web must be on the ceiling which is why she was as low to the floor as possible. But he didn’t see the web or the spider.

  “Where is it?” He got closer to her and saw that she was shaking all over. He felt bad for her that it scared her this much. But like any loving husband, he decided to play along.

  Rachel pulled his hand with all her might and Derrick dropped to the tiled floor next to his wife. He started to fumble with the ties on her robe, taking advantage of her vulnerability. He figured he could crush the spider in a few minutes after Daddy enjoyed some play time with Mommy. But Rachel pushed him off with a determined scowl on her face.

  “Derrick! There is someone outside our house.”

  He stopped groping her and realized that she was serious. There were only two situations when Rachel would give him that look and both times inv
olved him not doing what she expected.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw a man in the backyard. Out the sink window. Creeping around.”

  “Are you sure? It could have been a tree shadow or something.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I think I know what a person looks like as opposed to a tree.”

  Rachel was clutching his forearms as she pleaded with her brown eyes. Derrick tensed at the thought of a prowler endangering his family. Notions of sexual playfulness evaporated quicker than a puddle in July. He stretched up on his knees to peer over the sink at the window. The angle didn’t give him a good view of the yard. So he crawled around the counter to the sliding glass door and paused to listen for any sounds. After a few moments of not detecting anything, Derrick slowly spread two of the vertical blinds to peek into the back yard. He didn’t see anything moving but the reflection of the kitchen lights made it difficult to be sure. He gently closed the blinds and crawled back over to his wife.

  “I don’t see anything out there. But it’s hard to see with the kitchen lights on. I want you to turn on the porch lights and I’ll go see if anybody is out there.”

  “Wait. What if someone IS there? Then what are you going to do? I say we call the police and have them come check out the yard.”

  “Rachel, I don’t want to call the police to chase away a raccoon or some prankster kid. It would be embarrassing.”

  “Derrick, I know what I saw and it wasn’t a raccoon. Go get your gun first. Then we can try the lights. Please. You can never be too careful. It could be somebody dangerous. And if something happens to you then the girls and I are going to be extremely vulnerable.”

  She said the magic words. The girls. Derrick would do anything in the world for his princesses, including protecting them at all costs. He knew Rachel was right and he heeded her request.

  “Okay. Fine. I will go get the gun. But you should go upstairs and keep the girls occupied in case they decide to wander down here while I am checking things out. I don’t want them getting alarmed.”

  Rachel nodded in agreement. She was about to tell him to be careful when the doorbell rang. They both froze as if an icy finger streaked down their backs. Derrick tried to figure out who the hell would be ringing their doorbell at this hour. They weren’t expecting anyone and it was too late for some door-to-door pollster or girl scout selling cookies. Then his thoughts came back to the “prowler” outside. Maybe it was just a bunch of kids playing games after all. Like ding-dong-ditch and egging the house. It seemed an odd night for that kind of activity though. Derrick got his wits back and stood up, bringing Rachel up with him.

  “It’s probably just kids messing around. I’ll get the door and then I’ll check the yard. You should go up to the girls.”

  Derrick kissed Rachel’s forehead and turned to go for the front door. Rachel still felt uncomfortable. Something felt wrong. She hugged herself tightly and listened as Derrick answered the door.

  Chapter 30

  Michael was nervous. His blood was boiling hot with anger but he was far beyond his comfort zone. He was used to taking his rage out on inanimate objects like drywall or garbage cans. Yet here he was on the precipice of no return.

  He stood on the front porch and stared at the glowing doorbell. Trying to will himself to ring it. He thought for a second that maybe he didn’t want to go through with this plan. Nothing good could possibly come out of this. He was either going to totally lose his cool and hurt Derrick. Or Derrick would call the cops on Michael and have him arrested for harassment and trespassing. Either way, Michael would lose his job and any chance of saving his house, his family and his daughter’s life.

  All roads seemed to point back to Derrick though. He threatened Michael to play along and then, coincidentally, Andrew disappears soon after. It was too much to be unrelated. Michael knew that Graves was behind the disappearance of his son. The realization refueled his determination. He stepped closer to the doorbell. As he reached for it, he saw his hand trembling uncontrollably. The second-guessing returned and shook his resolve.

  It was all his fault. Everything. He got married before he was ready, even though he loved Stephanie with all his heart. Financially, they both had student loans from college along with the typical young professional’s debts. Car payments for vehicles that they couldn’t afford but needed to get back and forth to work. Plus credit card debt that carried the suits and professional wardrobes required to start off in the business world. They struggled to live independently of their parents by renting apartments. However, rents being high in this area of the country further extinguished their financial standing.

  Eventually they wised up and moved in together which cut down on the total expenses. They decided it just didn’t make sense to wait longer to get married when they both loved each other so much. And he had to put his foot down, damned ego, when her parents offered to pay for the wedding, insisting that he wanted to provide for them forever and he was determined to start right away. Even with them doing the wedding on the cheap, it still set them back another fifteen grand. Oh, and don’t forget the marriage tax that the government levies on the loving couple as a delayed wedding gift. After the wedding came the house hunting because everyone knows that renting an apartment is just flushing money down the drain. They had to “buy a house and start a family.” The mortgage rates were fairly attractive at the time so they fell in line with the pundits and bought a house. What all those helpful friends and family DIDN’T warn them about was all the additional expenses that come with a house purchase. Like huge property taxes and all the furniture that was now needed to fill all the extra rooms. Plus what house doesn’t need to be updated and touched up? So a few paint jobs here and a new bathroom fixture there, and next thing they knew they had accumulated a home equity line of credit for another forty grand just to make the house livable. Well, livable to show off to friends and neighbors without being embarrassed. And don’t forget about all the things that go break in the middle of the night. Thanks, Mr. Boiler and Mr. Leaky Roof.

  Once they were in the house, the first pregnancy came. Unexpected because they weren’t really trying to get pregnant. But not surprising because they had begun to get careless with their amorous affairs, knowing they now had the room to accommodate an additional family member. And when Andrew was born the expenses continued to pile up. Birthdays and Christmases were more extravagant because it was for the child. Endless diapers and baby formulas and clothing bills piled up. It was funny how you could buy a new outfit for a baby and then a month later it no longer fit. So they were back to renting, except it was no longer an apartment, it was tiny doll-clothes and diapers (what Grandpa liked to call shit-catchers). Then all the cute little play-dates turn into weekend after weekend of birthday parties for other people’s children. And they couldn’t show up empty-handed or with something cheap because someone might figure out that they were strapped for cash.

  Next came the cost of daycare, which put a sizable dent in Stephanie’s salary. But they both needed to work. Until Allison was born. Once Allison came along it no longer made sense to utilize daycare. They had done their research and having both kids in daycare would completely wipe out Stephanie’s annual salary. Why have strangers raise your children when you could do it yourself, they decided. So Stephanie quit her job and stayed home with the kids. It made sense from a cost standpoint and nobody could put a price on a mother being home with her children during the most formative years of their lives. However, the loss of her income, as little as it was, was felt immediately.

  Tight budgeting, timely credit card balance transfers and several home refinances worked like smoke and mirrors to keep them afloat. But it was a house of cards built on quicksand. The rainy day funds had been depleted to cover the emergency expenses of broken down cars and other unexpected tribulations. They quickly lived hand to mouth and depended on credit cards for more and more basic living expenses. And this was all before Allison got sick. The medica
l bills beyond what the insurance companies covered were crippling. They were mired in the debt cyclone and spiraling down.

  Michael wiped a tear away from his eye. He should have prevented all this. He thought he was in control but he wasn’t. He fucked up. Plain and simple. Only his mistake was costing the lives of the people he was supposed to provide for and protect. Steph and the kids. They were innocent and deserved better than what he had given them. His pride had gotten in the way. Steph’s parents had offered several times to help out but he couldn’t accept it. He was the man of the house and it was his job to handle all the manly responsibilities. So why didn’t he do it? All he had ever wanted was to give his family the best in life.

  He grasped the pistol that was tucked into his pants. His finger stroked the trigger. It would be so easy to end it, right here, right now. He toyed with the idea of shooting himself in the head and freeing Stephanie and the kids of all the pain. She would be able to move in with her folks and have access to endless money and resources. No more Michael standing in the way. Hurting them.

  Michael looked up to the stars to seek an answer. The dark sky was so beautiful. It was clear and vast. And suddenly Michael knew his purpose. He knew what he had to do to make things right. He knew the one constant in this whole shit storm. Derrick Graves. Derrick had denied his request for more money. Derrick had threatened him to go against his judgment. Derrick had issued his daughter’s death sentence. Derrick had kidnapped his son to squeeze Michael into submission. Derrick. He was the one who must now pay for his sins.

  Michael steeled himself and let go of the pistol in his waistband. He straightened up and wiped the tears from his eyes. He took a few deep breaths and lowered his gaze upon the glowing doorbell. His steady hand, no longer trembling, stretched out and pushed the button.