Thomas Perry - Dead Aim

Emily had found what she needed. She turned around to scan the foliage behind her. A bit of darkness seemed to coalesce and become a deeper bit of darkness and then Debbie stepped closer, and passed through the light to Emily’s side. Emily pointed at the partially opened slider, so Debbie could see it across the room. “See the two extra magnetic contacts?” Emily whispered. “Too narrow for me. If we move it any wider the alarm will go off.”

Debbie whispered, “Let me see.”

Debbie walked around to the spot. She looked closely at the narrow open space between the door and the end of the track, did a quarter turn to put herself beside it, as though measuring, then faced it again.

She put her right arm inside and let it go in up to the shoulder, rounded her back to get her right breast in past the door, then placed her chin on her shoulder, shrugged, and twisted. Her knees bent, her legs spread apart, and her right side was in. As she slid inward her ear brushed the door, but she continued her turn. It looked to Emily as though she were stepping through the glass instead of past it.

Emily hurried to whisper through the opening into Debbie’s ear. “Find the alarm circuit box. It will be in a closet or cabinet, but it has a green glowing light on the door, so you’ll see it. The key will be hidden near it. When you find the key, unlock the box and flip the off switch on the lower left side. The green light on the door will go out.”

Debbie nodded and set off. She opened the entry closet and closed it, then another near the kitchen. She moved down a hallway, and Emily saw no more of her for a few minutes. She reemerged through the dining room, and quietly climbed the stairs.

Emily leaned on the wall and prepared for a long wait. She stared at the alarm keypad by the front entrance, and as she stared, the red ARMED light and the green POWER light went dark. She took a deep breath, and pushed the sliding door open far enough to slip inside. No alarm rang out. She pushed the door shut and listened. She advanced deeper into the living room, tuning her ears to any small sound.

She climbed the stairs and found Debbie standing motionless at the top, gazing up the hall toward the end. The door was closed, but there was a faint light beneath it.

Emily looked away from it to Debbie and saw a look of distaste on her face. She moved close to Debbie’s ear. “What’s wrong?”

Debbie whispered, “She’s not alone.”

Emily’s eyes widened. It was not unusual, and it was certainly not unimaginable. She should have thought of it, but she had not. It made perfect sense. David Altberg had been a sixty-three-year-old man with a balding head and a pot belly. His conversation had been dull and self-absorbed. The only thing that had made him bearable was his money. At frequent intervals, he had gone off without his wife. He’d mentioned hunting in Alaska, fishing in Florida. And of course, the past five weeks at the ranch. His wife had probably been delighted.

As Emily tried to think it through, she began to hear sounds. There were little cries, moans, and then the sound of a bed squeaking.

Debbie’s lips beside her ear tickled and irritated her. “Let’s kill them both.”

Emily shook her head hard, to cover the shiver. “No. Let’s turn the alarm on again. We’ll hide and wait.”

“What about Mary? She’ll be back in a half hour.”

“She knows enough to keep going if we’re not there. We’ll call her when it’s done.”

She followed Debbie to a room off the upstairs hallway. It was dark, but she could tell that it had been decorated as a kind of sitting room. Debbie went to the closet, opened the metal box on the wall, and reached up to flip the switch.

“Don’t!” Emily said it aloud.

Debbie’s body whirled to face the danger. When she saw nothing she remained with her body tensed, but her face looked puzzled.

Emily stepped closer. “I forgot I closed the sliding door downstairs. She has it programmed to be open to the first contact. If we turn on the system now, the alarm will go off. I’ll go open it.” She slipped out. She could hear the sounds from the bedroom, louder and wilder now. She waited until the noises convinced her that there was no chance that they would hear her, then moved down the staircase, pushed the slider to its former position, and slowly began to make her way back toward the stairs.

She heard footsteps above her head. They couldn’t be Debbie’s. She wouldn’t make any noise. Emily slipped into the corner of the room and hid behind a couch. The sounds resolved themselves into two sets of footsteps. One set was soft and light, and the other heavier, a man’s feet. She waited for a few minutes, then heard them again.

At the top of the stairs she heard the woman’s voice. There was a pouting quality to it. “Are you sure you have to go just like that? David isn’t going to be home until late tomorrow.”

“Sure, that takes care of him,” said a man’s voice. “But Marian isn’t out of town. By now she’s wondering where I am.”

“I’ll call her as soon as you leave, and chat for a while, so she won’t be in such a snit when you get there,” said the woman’s voice. “She won’t be thinking about you at all. But I will be.”

Emily lay behind the couch and waited. She heard them come down the stairs. There was a curious silence. She moved forward a few inches and looked beyond the edge of the couch. It was no surprise that they were kissing. The surprise was that the woman was so young. Mrs. David Altberg was no older than Emily.

Emily pulled her head back and remained still. The kiss ended, the woman pressed her code on the keypad, making eight beeps. The front door opened, and in a few seconds it closed. Emily heard the electric motor of the door opener spinning the screw to slide the garage door up. That was smart, she thought. They had parked his car in the garage, where David’s car usually went. Nobody who came by would see his car parked here. Emily heard the car pull out, and the garage motor hum as it brought the door down again. She waited until the woman walked across the room to close the slider, then returned. Emily slithered to the end of the couch to watch while the woman pushed the keys to engage her alarm again. Then she ducked back.

Emily hoped that Debbie had the sense to be patient. If she appeared before the woman was far enough from the keypad, she might get back in time to push the emergency button.

The woman turned off the downstairs lights and climbed the stairs toward her bedroom. The darkness was reassuring to Emily, because it meant everything had gone perfectly. The sensation was refreshing, a physical release that made her feel free and energetic.

As soon as Mrs. Altberg disappeared at the top of the stairs, Emily began to move toward the bottom step. But then she heard the sounds above her. They came much sooner than she had expected. There was no scream, just an indrawn breath like a gasp, then a heavy thump, a knock as the woman’s head hit something, and a softer, heavier noise that Emily knew was Debbie letting the woman’s body drop to the floor in the upstairs hallway.

Emily took the steps three at a time, pulling herself up with the railing, then dashed past the landing into the hallway. The woman was lying on the hardwood floor, and Debbie was looking down at her, cocking her head to get a look at the face.

“Is she dead?” asked Emily.

“Sure. I thought I’d put her out quickly.” Debbie looked at Emily and shrugged. “I mean, why not? This wasn’t her fuckup, was it?”

“No,” said Emily quietly. “Thank you for taking care of it.”

Debbie gave her an annoyed glance and walked down the hall toward the bedroom. “What now?”

Emily followed her. “Now we pack a suitcase for her, as though she and her husband went away together.” She stepped in past Debbie and looked at the bed, which was in extreme disarray. She moved closer to it. “I guess I’d better make the bed first.”