“He still doesn’t know, right?”
“I haven’t told him, you haven’t told him, and there’s no chance he’s figured it out for himself.”
“He’s smart,” Alfonso counters.
“Exactly why he would never think of that.”
Ricardo’s confidence helps settle Alfonso’s nerves. The two work perfectly together. Their personalities are symbiotic, in perfect harmony. Alfonso thinks of all the ways things can go wrong and Ricardo keeps their spirits up and their feet moving forward.
“Have you made the call?” Ricardo asks as the two lay in the middle of the jungle, staring up through trees at the stars above.
“Not yet. I want everything in place before I do.”
“You mean the girl.” No response, but Ricardo understands.
“Well tonight was a setback,” Alfonso says.
“You think?” The words don’t come out sarcastic, but instead, a genuine question.
“He yelled at her…okay well maybe he didn’t yell, but he might as well have. Even she must have been able to tell how mad he was. She’s got to be freaked out.”
“I don’t know. She held her own.”
“Even worse. Have you ever seen someone talk back to him like that?” Ricardo’s silence shows he hasn’t. “Well I have, and it was one of the guys we scraped off the ground.”
Again, no need to respond, Ricardo knows it’s true, but still, he seems unfazed. Ricardo has always been calm. More of a thinker than someone who reacts to everything, like Alfonso. But this is too calm, and Alfonso can’t help but feel like Banks has been rubbing off on him. How can he be so calm, knowing their future, their lives, depend on this girl falling for a madman?
“How the hell is she going to fall in love with him, if she’s locked away in her room the whole time she’s here?” Alfonso asks.
“He’ll calm down. In the meantime, we just need to find a way for them to connect. A shared interest or commonality.”
“Between the sweet innocent nurse and the deranged murderous criminal…hmm… that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“You didn’t see it did you?” Ricardo asks and Alfonso raises up on an arm and looks at his friend, who remains on the ground, contently staring up at the stars.
“See what?”
“The look in his eyes.”
“Whose? Banks?”
“There’s something there. We just need to get them a moment, a single moment where he isn’t pissing her off and she isn’t screaming back at him.”
Alfonso laughs and lays back down.
“Good luck.”
***
“Are you sure this is it?”
“Am I sure?” Ricardo asks. “Of course not. I’m a landscaper, not a private investigator.”
The balmy Florida night hangs around the two friends. They’re thinner, younger, and stand without the confidence and swagger they have now.
“Well then how are we supposed to know?” Alfonso asks.
“I guess just go in and see if it’s him.”
“And what if it’s not?”
“Honestly I’m more worried about what if it is. Then what?”
The two friends look at each other, conflicted, unsure what to do or how to do it.
“I guess, we just…do it.”
Alfonso’s words, though clear, bounce between a statement and a question. They stand, hidden in the shadows of a tree at the bottom of a dark driveway. The house in front of them is large, ornate, and clearly expensive. Just the kind of property they would landscape for, and despite the nature and severity of their visit, they can’t help but notice its yard as they creep forward.
“Can you believe this?” Ricardo motions to their left.
“I know, the hedges are a joke.
“A child with scissors could do a better job.”
“And the lawn?” Alfonso stops and actually gives a little bounce on the grass. “Hard as a rock.”
“Exactly. It’s like, have you ever heard of aerating?”
The two stand for a moment, disgusted with the lack of attention given to such a yard.
“I feel like leaving a business card.”
“Probably not a good idea, considering what we’re here to do,” Alfonso says.
“It’s just such a shame to let a yard like this rot away.”
In all honesty, they know the yard actually looks pretty great, for anyone who isn’t in the business. But to them, to a couple guys who’ve spent the last two years learning all they can, delving into the business, it’s a travesty.
The lights inside flick on, and they drop to the ground. A man crosses the front room, sending a shadow creeping over them. As he checks the front door’s locked, Alfonso sees his face.
“I feel for you,” Ricardo whispers to the grass as he slides his hand over the patchy blades.
“That’s our guy,” Alfonso says. “Let’s get to it.”
The light flicks back off and the two make their way to the front door. These mansions all use the same security firm, and Alfonso and Ricardo just happen to have a friend who works there. With a generous deposit from their envelope of cash, they not only got an address for their target, but the code to shut off his alarm. The door’s lock is taken care of easily enough with a little liquid nitrogen. Freezing it, snapping the mechanism, and prying the deadbolt backward into the door, leaves the path open. The code is quickly typed into the security panel on the wall, and they are in.
Silently they make their way through the dark house. The only light comes faintly streaming down the hall upstairs. They can hear the soft buzz of an electric toothbrush. The man will soon be in bed, an easy target. As they reach the top stair, the light is extinguished, and their movements are guided only by the windows moonlight.
Just outside the open door to the bedroom, they can see the man inside. In bed, alone and motionless, they could easily get the job done, but they don’t enter. Both wait for the other to make the first move, neither wanting to. Everything until now had been prep, it had been a riddle they could solve, a little breaking and entering, nothing serious. Now the moment came. Now they had to do the act. Now they had to kill.
Silently, words are exchanged. Not out loud, not so they could be heard, but the argument continued. Back and forth they fought. Facial expressions, mouthing of words, hand motions, it all worked to express their thoughts and emotions, until finally they’re interrupted.
“I’ll take it from here.”
The words are spoken at a normal volume, but in the silence, they sound like they were screamed. Both Alfonso and Ricardo yelp in fear, falling backward and crashing into the bedroom door.
“What the hell?” the man in the bed yells, flipping the light on.
Alfonso and Ricardo scramble, quickly ducking behind the bedroom door. But in the open doorway, standing tall, unflinching, is Banks.
“You?” the man says. “But I killed you!”
“It would appear, I’ve killed you,” Banks says, punctuating his remark with a quick thump, as a bullet from his silenced pistol pierces directly through the man’s forehead.
Both Alfonso and Ricardo open their mouths to scream, but one look, one piercing gaze from Banks’s golden eyes stops them in their tracks. Not in fear of being shot, because Banks doesn’t look angry. He isn’t mad, just looking at the pair of crumpled men on the floor.
“You just killed that guy,” Alfonso finally sputters.
“Weren’t you going to anyway?” Banks asks.
“No! I mean, I don’t know, maybe, no, probably not.”
“You’re not killers. That’s good. I don’t want you to be. It’s better this way.”
“And that guy?” Ricardo asks.
“Bad guy. Smuggling money for the mafia.”
“So it wasn’t just revenge for shooting you?”
“Not at all. Well maybe a bit, but first and foremost, it was a job. Anyway, the body if you will,” Banks says, unscrewing the silencer and popping the magazine out of his pistol. “My car is in the driveway.”
He turns and walks down the hall, leaving the two sitting on their butts, one staring at the man walking away, one staring at the body, dead in bed.
“Come now. I haven’t got all night. I’ll need to teach you how to dispose of the body, and you’ll need to see your new living arrangements. I’ll need you close if you are to work for me.”
Alfonso and Ricardo’s eyes move to each other.
“Work for him?” Alfonso mouths the question, fear in his eyes.
“New living arrangements,” Ricardo mouths back, clearly excited to be out of the dilapidated studio they’re currently living in.