Carol Steward - In His Sights

“Closest thing is a golf club. It’s over there.” Dee pointed to the storage cabinets on the far side of the garage. “They came with the house.”

Edgar raised an eyebrow. “You golf?”

“When I have to, let’s just say it’s not a problem letting the client win.” She smiled. “Come on. It’s going to be fine. After that jealous student broke into my carriage house to scare Lauren away from Seth, I had a security system installed. The service would have called if there’d been any problems. Would you like some coffee? I won’t guarantee it’s as good as in Brazil, but…”

“You are a beautiful surprise, Deandra. Here we are scared out of our wits and you’re going to make coffee, and worry that I won’t like it.” He motioned toward the door.

Dee laughed as she returned the key to her purse, more than a little relieved to be home. “No one calls me Deandra,” she said in a light tone. Edgar stepped inside ahead of her. “That’s not fair,” Dee said, playfully tugging on his arm. “I don’t get to see your reaction to my home if you’re ahead of me.”

Thunder rumbled. Edgar stopped suddenly and pulled her into his embrace.

He’d been outside waiting since the sun went down. He’d crawled through foot-high weeds to get to Dee’s house from the back side of the golf course, where he’d hidden that dump of a car he’d found in an Atlanta newspaper. It was cheap, and no paperwork to trace the sale. Just what he needed right now, something to get around in unnoticed.

He eyed the approaching thunderstorm, hoping it passed quickly without dumping too much rain. He’d been sitting in her gazebo, waiting for the call.

If it got too muddy, he’d leave tracks right back to the car. He’d have to duck into the garage and surprise her after she turned off that blasted security system. He tugged on the wire leading from the house to the pole out back, ready to run at a moment’s notice if an alarm went off. Nothing. It was better news than he’d hoped for. It had to have disconnected something.

I’d have thought you’d be smarter than this, Ms. Owens. Especially after all those close calls with Lauren.

Lightning cracked, hitting the tree next to him, sending a branch to the ground.

Then again, a thunderstorm could also hide evidence. How much more perfect could this be?

He picked up the branch and placed it over the downed wire. Just a little mishap with Mother Nature. His black clothes were getting soaked, and the leather gloves were going to dye his hands black if they got wet. He’d never be able to explain that to his wife. He tugged them off and tucked them into his pocket.

Where in the world is she? He felt his cell phone vibrate. All looked quiet here. He took the phone from his pocket and answered quietly.

“She’s on her way home, finally. I had her trapped in the library, when she met up with some guy and a girl. Don’t miss this time.”

“Don’t threaten me again.” He glanced at his watch and ended the call. It’ll take her at least twenty minutes, maybe more. While he waited, he went through everything one more time, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Half an hour later, he heard a car approach, ducked around the corner of the garage and hid behind the azalea bush, ready to crawl inside behind her car.

But two sets of headlights pulled into her driveway, and he was surprised to see a sports car follow her into the garage. He’d seen that car on campus.

Why didn’t you tell me she was going to have company?

He backed away, deeper into the shrubs, and waited for them to get inside. First the garage door closed, then he heard the inside door bang shut. Thunder rumbled overhead. He turned and ran, straight into the fallen branch.

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