couple
wouldn’t give up information easily. But, he smiled confidently, they would give up the information he wanted. He
knew how to make people tell him what he wanted to know.
He knew the
Swartz couple were well into their seventies, but he also remembered the night
he had tried to rescue Jordan from her husband. When she ran to the house
next door, old man Swartz had appeared on the porch with a shotgun.
Lambert felt he was at an advantage knowing that the old man had a gun.
He could get rid of him first, then take his time getting the information he
needed from the old lady. She would be easier to break anyway.
Women just weren’t as strong willed as men. They didn’t deal with pain very well.
He rested
quietly under the tree and about 9:30, the last light went out. He gave
them another forty-five minutes to make sure they were sleeping soundly.
Not having seen or heard a dog on either of the two previous nights he had
spent checking out the house, Frankie felt safe easing up to the back door in
the dark. He knew the bedroom they slept in was at the front of the house
and they weren’t likely to hear him as he worked at the door. A knife
made quick work of the screen. Once he had the screen door open, he began
to work at the lock on the solid door. It was an older lock but he had
spent some time in his youth figuring ways to open locked doors. His thin
bladed knife slipped into the crack and skillfully, he began to work the latch
back into the handle. It only took him a few minutes before he cautiously
eased the door open, hoping it didn’t have a loud squeak. It didn’t and
he closed it quietly. He was in!
He made his
way silently through the house, admiring some of antiques that the couple had
collected over the years. Night lights
placed strategically throughout the house by the elderly couple provided
sufficient light for him to negotiate from room to room He could smell
the odor of fresh flowers and remembered having seen the old woman working in
her yard, all those years ago. He spotted the vase containing several
gardenias on the dining table. It was a good smell.
There might be
some money to be made if he had time to stick around and convince the old man
to go to the bank to spare the old lady. Some of the antiques he had
spotted would have sell for a good bit. Then Frankie shook his head
negatively. He was here to find out where Jordan was. He couldn’t
let anything get in the way of that.
The door to
the bedroom was open and he could see a dim light coming from what was probably
a bathroom. Another night light, brought a smile to his face. He
watched them for a few minutes, trying to determine which shape was the old
man. Slowly he stepped into the room, then to one side, away from the
door. He pulled the gun from his pocket and pointed it at one of the
figures. The click as he cocked the hammer sounded extremely loud to him
and the old man stirred, rolling onto his back, then pushed himself into a
sitting position. Frankie pulled the trigger and heard the pffutt of the
silencer as the gun fired. The impact of the bullet slammed the old man
back into a prone position, bloody gore splattering all over the bed and wall
behind him as it tore through his head.
The old lady
screamed as she sat up. Her mind couldn’t accept what her eyes were
showing her. She screamed again, and then Frankie was fastening his hand
around her throat. Her scream was choked off as he spoke roughly.
“Shut up!”
Even in her
state of terror, she thought that was a stupid demand. No one could
scream when their throat was squeezed shut. Slowly Frankie eased his hold
on her throat so she could breathe. When he finally released her, she
turned her head toward her husband. She knew he was dead. My God,
she prayed silently, help me! In answer to her silent request, her heart
seized up and stopped beating. Her soul slipped out of her body
wouldn’t give up information easily. But, he smiled confidently, they would give up the information he wanted. He
knew how to make people tell him what he wanted to know.
He knew the
Swartz couple were well into their seventies, but he also remembered the night
he had tried to rescue Jordan from her husband. When she ran to the house
next door, old man Swartz had appeared on the porch with a shotgun.
Lambert felt he was at an advantage knowing that the old man had a gun.
He could get rid of him first, then take his time getting the information he
needed from the old lady. She would be easier to break anyway.
Women just weren’t as strong willed as men. They didn’t deal with pain very well.
He rested
quietly under the tree and about 9:30, the last light went out. He gave
them another forty-five minutes to make sure they were sleeping soundly.
Not having seen or heard a dog on either of the two previous nights he had
spent checking out the house, Frankie felt safe easing up to the back door in
the dark. He knew the bedroom they slept in was at the front of the house
and they weren’t likely to hear him as he worked at the door. A knife
made quick work of the screen. Once he had the screen door open, he began
to work at the lock on the solid door. It was an older lock but he had
spent some time in his youth figuring ways to open locked doors. His thin
bladed knife slipped into the crack and skillfully, he began to work the latch
back into the handle. It only took him a few minutes before he cautiously
eased the door open, hoping it didn’t have a loud squeak. It didn’t and
he closed it quietly. He was in!
He made his
way silently through the house, admiring some of antiques that the couple had
collected over the years. Night lights
placed strategically throughout the house by the elderly couple provided
sufficient light for him to negotiate from room to room He could smell
the odor of fresh flowers and remembered having seen the old woman working in
her yard, all those years ago. He spotted the vase containing several
gardenias on the dining table. It was a good smell.
There might be
some money to be made if he had time to stick around and convince the old man
to go to the bank to spare the old lady. Some of the antiques he had
spotted would have sell for a good bit. Then Frankie shook his head
negatively. He was here to find out where Jordan was. He couldn’t
let anything get in the way of that.
The door to
the bedroom was open and he could see a dim light coming from what was probably
a bathroom. Another night light, brought a smile to his face. He
watched them for a few minutes, trying to determine which shape was the old
man. Slowly he stepped into the room, then to one side, away from the
door. He pulled the gun from his pocket and pointed it at one of the
figures. The click as he cocked the hammer sounded extremely loud to him
and the old man stirred, rolling onto his back, then pushed himself into a
sitting position. Frankie pulled the trigger and heard the pffutt of the
silencer as the gun fired. The impact of the bullet slammed the old man
back into a prone position, bloody gore splattering all over the bed and wall
behind him as it tore through his head.
The old lady
screamed as she sat up. Her mind couldn’t accept what her eyes were
showing her. She screamed again, and then Frankie was fastening his hand
around her throat. Her scream was choked off as he spoke roughly.
“Shut up!”
Even in her
state of terror, she thought that was a stupid demand. No one could
scream when their throat was squeezed shut. Slowly Frankie eased his hold
on her throat so she could breathe. When he finally released her, she
turned her head toward her husband. She knew he was dead. My God,
she prayed silently, help me! In answer to her silent request, her heart
seized up and stopped beating. Her soul slipped out of her body
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