Deadly Plans

The three detectives see a distraught couple talking to an officer on the front lawn when they pull up to the house.

"Another two-story Victorian, just like I suspected," Kirk says as he climbs out of the car.

"What are you talking about, Kirk?" the sergeant asked.

"The robber only seems to hit two-story Victorians in the older, more established neighborhoods, and all his victims come from money."

Rachel replays the crime scenes in her mind. "Maybe you found our connection."

"What I can't figure out is the why."

"Whoever is doing this could've been born into money; something caused him to lose his inheritance, and now he's getting revenge."

"That's a good possibility. Jerry, I want you to see what our forensics team has to say. Kirk, talk to the neighbors and see if they can tell you anything. I'll talk to the couple."

Rachel sees the officers scribbling down some notes when she walks up to the porch.

"Sergeant, this is Mr. and Mrs. Lawson. They're the owners of the house." He hands her his notes.

Rachel scans his report. "You left at six thirty for your nightly run?"

"Yes, and we returned to find the house unlocked and the alarm disabled."

"Do you run every evening?"

"Yes, well, almost every evening. We go to the gym if the weather is bad."

"Do you leave around six thirty every night?"

"Yes, why?"

"The consistent routine makes you an easy target."

"I always ensure the doors are locked and the alarm is on before we leave."

"Who else has the key to your home?"

"No one."

"Do you keep a spare somewhere?"

"No, of course not. Why are you blaming us?"

"I'm not, Mr. Lawson; I'm just trying to figure out how the robber is pulling it off."

"I assure you, detective, we don't give out the code or a spare key to anyone."

"Not even a family member?"

Clenching his fits by his side, he firmly states: "Our family wouldn't do this to us."

"I'm not suggesting they would, but perhaps these items ended up in the wrong hands."

"My wife and I are the only ones who know the code and have a key."

"Do you have domestic help, a housekeeper, a nanny, or a dog walker?"

"My wife is quite capable of handling the household chores, right, honey?" He throws his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in close.

"Of course, dear," she timidly replies.

"So, take me through your nightly routine."

"I don't see how this will help you catch the robber."

"If we can find a pattern between you and the others, we can narrow down the suspects."

He glances at his watch. "Alright, but it's going to have to be quick; I have an important business meeting in an hour, and I still need to shower and eat."

Rachel takes a notebook from her pocket. "You get back from your run, and then?"

"I take a shower while Barbra makes my supper. I eat, and then I go to study to finish up the business. I'm there until eight, and then I go to bed."

"Where do you work?"

"Lawson Corporation, of course."

"What do you do, Mrs. Lawson?"

"I take care of our home." She fearfully glances towards her husband, and he nods.

"I need you to list everywhere you go, where you shop, the gym, spas, and anywhere you frequently visit."

"I can tell you exactly where my wife goes, detective."

She's probably too scared to go anywhere but where you tell her, Rachel thinks, watching the fearful woman beside him.

"She goes to the grocery store on Monday, the dry cleaners on Wednesday, and Friday afternoons; she has a hair appointment."

"Have you done anything different within the past few weeks, Mrs. Lawson?"

"I..."

Her husband interrupts. "She always sticks to the same routine, don't you, honey?" He squeezes her shoulders again.

She winces from the pain. "Of course, dear."

"We need the names of the business and the times you visit."

"Why is all of this necessary?"

"As I told you before, we're trying to find a connection between you and the other victims."

"I'll give you what you need, but I believe it's a waste of time."

Hearing the raised voice, Jerry steps up beside her. "We appreciate your cooperation, sir."

"You need all the help you can get," he says as he scans the crew. Turning towards his wife, he continues. "Go make my supper while I finish up here. And Barb, lay off the carbohydrates, your ass is getting big. He smacks her behind.

"You're a lot flabbier than she is," Rachel mumbles. Jerry snickers.

"Did you say something, detective?"

"I was just thinking out loud." Barbra tries to stifle a grin as she walks to the house.

"Efficiency is the key to success, detective. I wouldn't be where I am today without my efficiency and time management skills." He glances at Rachel's appearance. "It looks like you could use a course in time management, detective."

"It's sergeant, and I manage my life just fine, thank you."

"I'm sure you think so, but one's delusions fool many. Here's the list you wanted."

"Thank you for your cooperation," she replies stiffly. Snatching the paper from the man's hand, she storms towards her car.

"She needs a strong man to put her in her place. " Turning, he walks into his house.

Jerry recalls how she's taken down perps twice her size. It's more like she'd put you in your place. He chuckles. "What do you think, Rachel?" Jerry asks, running to catch up.

"I think he's a controlling asshole who probably beats his wife regularly."

"I'll run his name; see what I can find."

"Kirk and I will interview the other victims to see if they visit these businesses.

***

The dog tears at Tommy's clothes as he struggles to escape; images of his and Jen's lives flash through his mind. He pictures their candlelight dinners, their long strolls on the beach, making love under the starry skies. Tommy remembers how excited he was when he found out Jen was pregnant and the devastation he felt when the doctor told Tommy about her grave condition. He then recalls how he tried to collect money for her aftercare. His failed efforts forced him down a path he didn't want. Tommy then imagines Jen scowling at him when he tells her what he's done, his frail attempt at redemption that follows. "I didn't want to do it, baby, I didn't, but what other choice did I have?" He then pictures Jen wasting away in her bed. I have to save her. I just have to.

He searches the tall grass for a weapon. Finding a shovel a few feet away, he crawls towards it. The beast's hot breath brushes against his skin as he slithers across the yard. I'm almost there. 

The dog pierce his back as he reaches for the tool. Clenching his teeth, he grabs the handle and swings it over his head; the object vibrates on contact. 

Feeling the dog let go, Tommy scrambles up the stairs. He's pulling the screen door, too, as the dog lunges for him. The canine slams against the door and then falls to the ground. That was close. 

He notices the weathered screen sag when the beast plunges into it again. The barrier isn't going to hold him for long. 

He runs to the window and tries to open it, but it wouldn't budge. "Come on, come on." He looks back to see the dog tearing a hole in the screen. He pushes on the window. It moves a little and stops. 

Glancing over, Tommy sees the dog's top half on the porch. You're not attacking me again. With one hard shove, the window flies open.

 He's partially inside when he feels the dog clamp down on his extremity. Kicking the dog with his foot, he pulls himself through and closes the window behind him. The beast's face smacks against the barrier. "You can't get me now, you stupid mutt." The dog continues to growl as his teeth clink against the glass.

Tommy turns around to see worthless junk scattered all around. "I went through all of that for this? Tommy is walking around the room, hoping to find something of value, when he notices an old staircase in the corner. Maybe I'll find jewelry or a safe. He bolts up the stairs.

Stepping inside the first bedroom, he starts looking around. Seeing a jewelry box on the dresser, he runs towards it. With a look of horror on his face, Tommy freezing mid-step and screams.