With Cruel Intent by Dennis Larsen Page B

should endeavor to
    keep your assets a bit more under wraps
    in the future or we’ll never get these high
    school students to stop talking about you,”
    the director smiled politely, turned on her
    heels to walk away but said over her
    shoulder. “On second thought maybe we
    need to put the donation sign on the desk
    right in front of you today, dear, might be
    the best day we’ve had in years. See what
    you can do with that, will you?” And with
    that she was gone, calling for Mr. Marcus
    to follow her without turning to address
    him directly.
    * * *
    Blanche
    sat
    on
    the
    bench
    immediately in front of the library under a
    large magnolia tree, its glossy leaves
    providing a haven of shade from the
    afternoon sun. It had rained for about 30
    minutes an hour prior but now the sun was
    shining and the rainfall had given
    everything around her a brilliant, clean
    luster that accentuated the shrubbery and
    flowers. She did love it here, the city
    itself was beautiful, the people in general
    so genuine and caring, her job was a
    breeze and she loved the people she
    worked with but most of all she was
    content.
    The poor night's sleep seemed less
    significant as she sat and looked around at
    the pretty little square and the laid back
    atmosphere that seemed to encompass the
    town and the South in general. The worry
    of finding a place to live, for whatever
    reason, seemed less important at this very
    moment. She was feeling something she
    hadn’t felt for quite some time, happiness.
    “Yes, that was it!” she thought,
    reflecting on the past few weeks. She had
    not been able to quite put her finger on it
    this afternoon but she was sure that this is
    what true happiness must feel like. Being
    able to look beyond the events of the day
    it was interesting to her that such an
    epiphany was possible, but there it was
    right in the middle of her chest, that
    burning sensation that speaks to one’s soul
    that all is well and life is good.
    As she was basking in her new
    found
    realization
    Blanche
    noted
    a
    gentleman approaching the steps of the
    library, cane in his right hand and a bit
    slumped over, but she thought he seemed
    awfully young to be walking with a cane
    and hunched over in that manner. She
    watched as he reached the steps,
    straightened up slightly, and looked
    around as if expecting to meet someone.
    Blanche noted that rather than looking
    through his glasses, he tended to tip his
    head so he could see over them.
    It was what happened on the steps
    that struck her as odd. He seemed to be
    having a hard time judging the distance to
    each step. He would take a step, pull his
    glasses down his nose, look over them
    then take the next step. On the final step he
    failed to perform the same operation and
    tripped sending him falling. Rather than
    hitting the concrete as expected, he
    reacted with cat like reflexes, regained his
    balance without the use of the cane. Once
    secure that he was steady, he put his
    weight back on the cane, bent over and
    proceeded through the main doors.
    The incident hung in her thoughts
    for only a minute or two chalking it up to
    her father’s favorite saying, ‘It takes all
    kinds’, before her thoughts returned to the
    beauty of the day and the happiness she
    was feeling. She wanted to remember the
    way she felt right at that moment, capture
    it, bottle it up along with the sunshine’s
    comforting rays before she had to return to
    her duties inside.
    * * *
    Earlier in the day the burglar had
    tossed numerous ideas around. Perhaps he
    should just use the Internet to help him
    hone his ideas and provide new ones,
    after all he’d been told to be creative,
    however, ‘creative’ was not on his
    resume. Breaking into a home without
    detection, yes it was on there, not getting
    caught was on there, but breaking into a
    home, not getting caught and making a
    statement for all to see, that was definitely
    not included in his skill set. He’d had
    second thoughts about using the