It was closing in on nightfall. The rising moon was bright, and the stars had begun to twinkle in the darkening sky.
Abraham had followed the detective from his parking spot at the precinct to his home. Cannon had driven straight to his house, and unless he went out with the guys on occasion or had errands after work, Abraham didn’t know where he would find the opportunity to kill him.
He watched from four houses down, and with paper in hand, Abraham noted each time a patrol unit drove past the detective’s home. It happened more often than he liked. He also jotted down a note that when the detective arrived home and got out of his car, every outdoor light went on.
Motion sensor lights too. He isn’t going to make this task easy on me. I can’t kill him at his job or as he’s driving home, so how’s it going to go down when his house is monitored by cameras, alarms, and motion sensor lights?
Abraham recalled seeing the porch-facing camera and then another on the side of the house the day he met the woman who answered the door. Who knew how many more cameras the detective had? Chances were they were only activated at night, but that would have been the best time to do the deed.
Impossible as his house sits now. Also impossible if that woman lives there too.
Angry and without the best killing method in mind, Abraham knew where he needed to go. He drove west and would be knocking on his client’s door soon.
Less than ten minutes passed, and his hard knock prompted the porch light to go on. His client peered out through the sidelight then opened the door.
“What the hell are you doing here, and what happened to your hair?”
“We need to talk, and obviously, I shaved my head.”
“Whatever. What do we need to talk about? You getting paranoid?”
“Why do you want that detective killed? I can’t do the deed at his workplace or as he’s driving home. And then there’s that woman who answered the door, let alone the fact that the cops patrol his street every forty-five minutes. The man has motion sensor lights and camera systems around his yard too.”
The client frowned. “You of all people are chickening out? I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”
“I’ll do it for another five grand. I’ll find a way. I just need more motivation. He’ll be a tougher nut to crack than the others were.”
“How about standing in the shadows and when he gets home, cap him with a few rounds the second he steps out of the car?”
“I’m not doing another gun killing, remember?”
“Yeah, right, but we had a deal, and I’ve already paid you.”
“The detective came into play after the fact. He wasn’t on the original kill list, or I would have asked for more money then.”
“Nah, not happening.”
Abraham grabbed his client by the neck and squeezed. The man’s eyes bulged, and his face turned red. He gasped and frantically swatted at his assailant in attempts to get loose.
“Five grand more or I’ll kill you right now!”
The client nodded, and Abraham released his hold.
The man coughed and sucked in a lifesaving breath. “You son of a bitch! Who do you think you are?”
“The man you hired to take care of your problems. I’d like to remind you it’s not wise to disagree with your hired killer. Now get me the money!”
“Okay, okay! So five grand more will take care of the detective?”
“Yes, I’ll make it happen.”
The homeowner coughed again, cursed, then disappeared down the hallway. Minutes later, he returned with a padded envelope. “Here. There’s five grand inside.” He tossed it onto the coffee table.
“I’m going to count it just to make sure you aren’t pulling anything.”
The client snarled. “Go ahead. I’m good for the money, but you already know that.”
Abraham turned and lifted the envelope off the coffee table. As he did, he felt a stabbing pain. His body stiffened, and he instinctively swatted at his back. Then another searing pain shot through his neck, that time even deeper. Abraham dropped to his knees and then to the floor. As he lay writhing, his client whispered in his ear.
“I paid you to do a job, and trying to squeeze more money out of me wasn’t part of the deal. Now, you can beg for your life.”
Abraham grunted something then was hit with a final stab to his skull, which silenced him for good.
***
He dropped the letter opener and stared at the blood pooling beneath Abraham. He walked to the bathroom, grabbed two towels, wrapped one around the man’s head and laid the other over his back. He couldn’t allow blood to seep between the hardwood floorboards. It could easily be detected by Forensics if they ever searched his home.
After washing his hands, he returned to Abraham’s body.
That’ll teach you to question my intentions. You had a good chunk of money, but greed got the best of you. Now you’ve paid the ultimate price with your life. Somehow, I have to return you to your motel room, collect your belongings and the cash I gave you, then come back home.
He had his work cut out for him since Abraham was a large, heavy man. He grabbed the keys, drove his car out of the garage, backed the green SUV in, and closed the overhead. After the seats were lowered and the cargo gate was opened, he lined the space with moving blankets and a tarp, which he planned to toss in a dumpster later, and walked back into the house. He might struggle with Abraham’s dead weight, but he would get him inside the SUV one way or another then take him to his motel room—but not until later that night.