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She shook her head. “I managed to pay another week on the rent, but there was no money for heating. It’s okay, though. It’s not too cold…”
Yet.
The word hung in the air between us. It wasn’t terribly cold yet, but clearly she’d been feeling it. In a few weeks, it would be winter and a whole lot more unpleasant to live in those conditions. Daniel’s cough wasn’t going to get any better if he wasn’t warm and dry at night.
I drove her silently to the hospital, dropping her at Emergency. I offered to come inside with them, but she shook her head. “Please don’t. I don’t want to feel any more indebted to you than I already do.”
I tried to argue, but she wouldn’t hear it, and eventually I let her go, watching the small family trudge inside the hospital. Where no doubt Daniel would get the care he needed, and Tammie would be issued a hefty bill she couldn’t afford.
The entire situation broke me.
I drove back to Providence, staring up at the houses that got bigger and more expensive the farther I moved away from the Saint View border. The injustice followed me, like a trail of dirty black smoke. The people who lived in these houses had no idea what went on in their own backyard. Saint View was mere minutes away, and yet it was like a different world. There was an invisible gate between the two towns, but the separation was real.
I slowed and then stopped outside one of the biggest houses in town. A multistory property with balconies off the top floors, a circular drive, and immaculate gardens that gave a feeling of opulence. The place was nine bedrooms, four bathrooms, and had a swimming pool in the back with a diving board.
I knew because I’d been inside once before, accompanying my mother on one of her charity missions she ran for the hospital where she volunteered. Her job was to hit up wealthy people like the Laudertons and seek donations or sponsorship for new equipment.
She was good at her job. She got people talking about themselves, and the lives they lived, which in this part of town always included things like jet-skiing or taking expensive, overseas vacations. She’d lure them in with her assurances that she loved those things too. Then she’d hit them with the guilt trip.
It basically went along the lines of, “You’ve just admitted how much money you have to spend on frivolous things. What kind of person are you if you don’t give some of that to the needy?”
It almost always worked.
That day I’d been here, I’d listened as Mrs. Lauderton prattled on over tea and cookies, all about her husband and how hard he worked, running their very successful chain of supermarkets.
Supermarkets called Checkers—the same chain Tammie had been let go from because she couldn’t work evenings with three children at her feet. The same chain store who preferred to employ barely working-age children because they could pay them less. The same chain store who had turned over a multimillion-dollar profit in the last year and had yet refused to donate to my mother’s charity because it wasn’t in the budget.
They’d turned my mother’s requests down with no hint of guilt.
Greed practically seeped from the brickwork of the overdone home.
From the trunk of the car, I pulled a dark jacket, gloves, and balaclava. I filled my pockets with a few other things that often came in handy, brushing over Lyric’s rope deep at the bottom. Then just like I had the night I’d followed Lyric and her stalker, or the night I’d ended a perverted priest who couldn’t keep his penis in his pants, I melted into the shadows.
With practiced ease, I moved through the darkness, watching for security cameras or dogs, not surprised when there were none to be found since I had already cased the place when I’d been here months ago.
The front of the house had enough locks and bolts to rival Fort Knox, but the back was another story. It was minimal effort to jump a fence that was more decorative than functional and slip around to the glass doors that led from the building to the outdoor entertaining area and then to the pool area beyond.
Glass doors were always a weak point in any security system, and this one was no different. I shoved my hand into my pocket, ready with a pick that had helped me open many a locked door in the past, but I didn’t even need it. One tiny tug on the door, a slight lift to get it unlatched, and the thing was open, giving me wide and full access to the dark, sleeping house beyond.
All money and no sense. I slipped inside, pausing to let my eyes adjust to the darkness.
A curious yip from a small dog I hadn’t seen last time was instantly quieted with a treat from my pocket. He sat obediently, waiting for more, and I rewarded him several more times with food and pats on the head until he lost interest and went back to his bed on the edge of the kitchen.
I waited a moment to be sure he was relaxed around me and couldn’t help the smile when the creature almost instantly fell asleep and started snoring. Cute mutt.
Dog detail out of the way, I gazed around the huge room, fighting off the urge to whistle at how grand it was.
And at how many expensive things they had lying around, just waiting for someone to steal.
Or redistribute, as I liked to think of it. I doubted Paris and Clyde Lauderton would even notice if I took a few things to give to someone who needed them more than they did. In fact, I was sure they’d agree wholeheartedly that their ex-employee deserved some compensation for putting up with their pompous asses.
Cash and jewelry were my two objectives. They were small and easy, and if Paris didn’t go out often, she might not even notice the missing pieces for a while, which would give me more time to sell them without the risk of the police watching the pawn stores.
Some light from the street outside filtered through open windows, eliminating the need for the mini flashlight in my pocket. I crept up the stairs in search of the master bedroom. Or more specifically, a wardrobe or dressing area where jewelry would likely be kept.
The stairs led me onto a landing, with doors either side leading to bedrooms. From memory, the Laudertons had no children. In any case, there had been no sign of toys or school notes or clothes on the ground floor. Snores came from behind one door, and it seemed like the place to start.
It opened silently, revealing a huge bed, much bigger than a standard king-size with a canopy of gauzy fabric hanging over it. The mattress was covered with silky sheets and a white bedspread partially obscured by the two occupants.
