Scott Nicholson - Curtains

“Are you coming to bed, babe? It’s after one.”

Richard checked his watch. He hadn’t realized. He was tired, but not from the lack of sleep. Michelle sat at the table next to him and picked up his notes.

“How’s it look?”

“Expensive.”

Michelle sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

“Sorry.” Richard tried to smile. Michelle did likewise. “I think we could cobble something together,” he said.

“That’s great!”

“It’ll be tight, though. We’ll no longer be in the position to reward ourselves-the chance to see the world, early retirement-kids.” He let that one linger. “It’s all gone now, if we go through with this.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Okay.” She nodded. “What do we have to do?”

“Well, you know how I feel about them living here.”

“Let’s not go there.”

“We could pay their rent for them, but we’d just be pouring money down the drain. However, we can just about afford to buy a small house.”

Michelle beamed.

“It wouldn’t be anything fancy and probably wouldn’t be in the best neighborhood, but I think we could do it.”

“I knew you’d work something out.”

“I wouldn’t be too happy. Maui is out of the question.”

She flung her arms around him and crushed him in her excitement. “I don’t care.”

“Well, I hope you don’t care too much about cable TV, dinners out, going to the movies, name brand foods or any new clothes.”

“I don’t.”

“For all the fuss your parents have caused, it would be cheaper to have them killed.”

And there it was. He’d said it-admittedly as a joke. It was an option, though-an option he hadn’t consciously considered. It was a solution, an answer to his problematical in-laws. Michelle was too wrapped up in the moment and hadn’t heard his joke. She cooed sweet nothings into his ear.

By just thinking of having Ted and Eleanor killed, he was crossing a line, but as much as he hated to admit it, it was a line he crossed knowingly. His murderous thought seemed extreme. He couldn’t share it with Michelle-that was for sure. But it would solve things. If he bankrolled Ted and Eleanor, he incurred their current debt and at least ten to twenty years of their yet to be squandered debt. Even long after his in-laws were dead, they would still be gnawing at his finances. With compound interest, he wouldn’t be free of their touch for at least forty years. It was inconceivable. Murderers didn’t serve that kind of time. He struggled to see the downside, pushing morality aside. He leaned back in his chair, letting the concept soak in.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” Michelle grabbed his hand and tugged at him. “I want to celebrate.”

“In awhile,” he said with a thin smile. “I want to double-check a couple of things.”

Michelle stood. “Okay, but don’t take too long about it.”

“Okay.”

He watched her dance back to bed, while he contemplated killing her parents.

A restless night’s sleep hadn’t tempered his solution-it had reinforced it. He was going to kill his in-laws. It had been three a.m. before he’d gone to bed. He’d sat in the kitchen daydreaming, plotting their demise. While in bed, he’d tossed and turned-excited by the prospect. Stronger than caffeine, his ingenious idea kept him awake. Even in his unsettled sleep, he dreamed of murdering his burdensome in-laws. Surprisingly, he’d risen the following morning in fine fettle. He felt like a million bucks.

Leaning against the sink, munching on a bowl of cereal, Richard asked as casually as he could, “When’s your mom and dad’s eviction date?”

“Don’t say eviction.”

Hell, what was he meant to call it? Their involuntary departure due to irreconcilable payment terms? Eviction wasn’t a pretty word and it wasn’t meant to be. That was the name of the game. He tried again.

“Okay, when do they have to move out?”

“By the 20 ^ th, I think. Can I tell them the wonderful news?”

“Hold off for now. I need to get the mortgage broker to double-check my figures.”

“Okay.” Michelle smiled. She was so happy. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. “Maybe tonight?”

“Maybe.” He smiled back.

I’ve got until the 20th, he thought on the commute to work. I’ve got two weeks to kill them.

Deciding to kill Ted and Eleanor was one thing. Doing it was another. He had to decide how, when and where. Inspiration wasn’t on the right wavelength. Nothing coming through sounded workable. He wandered through his working day as a passenger, cruising past his responsibilities. At lunch, he made the obligatory phone call to the mortgage broker and realtor, and they set them in motion. He went home that evening with his cover story, but no plan for murder. Inspiration was waiting for him in the living room.

“Richard, you don’t know how much we appreciate what you’re doing,” Ted said.

“Very generous,” Eleanor echoed.

“I couldn’t wait, honey. I had to tell them. Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Richard said, his blood boiling. “There’s nothing to be angry about.”

“Richard, you’re my son now. What you’ve done for us elevates you way above in-law status.”

God forbid me ever being of your blood, you useless SOB. Richard shook Ted’s proffered hand, smiling as broadly as his anger and irritation allowed. “Thanks, Ted. That means so much coming from you.”

“We can go house hunting together,” Eleanor suggested. “Make it a real family affair.”

Over my dead body, Richard thought. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

“We should celebrate,” Ted announced. “Go out to dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds great, dad,” Michelle said.

“Great,” Richard agreed.

They went for a steak dinner. Ted suggested Outback. Richard said Sizzler, because it was nearer-and cheaper. He knew he would be picking up the tab — and he did. Their last meal together might be on him, but it didn’t have to be an expensive one.

He was glad to get home after seeing off his in-laws. The meal together had been good, though. It made his decision so much easier. Seated face to face with them, he felt no compunction to hand them a stay of execution, but they’d been a distraction. He couldn’t think seriously about killing them when they were jabbering away in front of him. Their inane chatter prevented him from concentrating. Michelle slipped her arms around his waist.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?”

“You know.” Her face filled with sadness. “I’m sorry we argued last night.”

He pulled her to him and hugged her tight. “It’s all right. We’ve got a solution now. Last night is forgotten.”

“C’mon, soldier. We’ve got some unfinished business in the bedroom. Let’s go.”

For Michelle’s benefit, Richard pretended to go to work. He went through the usual morning routine of his shower, shave and light breakfast. The moment he hit the road he called the office requesting a floating holiday. He had to think and he couldn’t do that with Michelle around or the interruptions at work. He stopped in at the first Denny’s he came across. Much to the hostess’ annoyance, he insisted on a booth rather than eating at the counter. He didn’t want the conversation. He ordered and gazed out the window at the freeway traffic whipping by below him.

Two restless nights and he still wanted to kill Ted and Eleanor. He was sold on the concept, but not on his morality. He told himself that he wasn’t evil. It was self-defense. Justifiable homicide. His livelihood was under threat and he couldn’t let that happen. He had to do something about it. Any notion that he was just another criminal dissolved with his first cup of Denny’s coffee.