“Umm, one croissant and a water, please.” Jason continued to the terminal entrance after thanking the vendor. He gazed at the snaking security line full of people waiting to be checked, his steely grey eyes darting between individuals in the crowd, studying their interactions.
One man near his side of the queue caught his eye. He was a middle aged man, somewhere in his mid-forties, with short black hair beginning to grey along the temples, which blended into the jet black hair on top. He was engrossed in a heated debate with another man next to him in line, flailing his arms wildly to drive home his points.
Jason decided the man was the one. His heart rate picked up as he picked his way across the walkway towards the man’s point in the queue. Jason fell. He grabbed at the man to recover, his left hand reaching the man’s belt. After Jason fell, the man turned around, irritated at being interrupted mid-argument, and offered a hand to help him up. Jason grabbed the man’s hand and wrist to pull himself up, noticing the silver watch on the man’s wrist. He thanked the man, grabbed his carry-on, and walked away, pocketing the silver wristwatch and leather wallet as he turned the corner.
Jason reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out his phone scrolling through his contacts until he reached Richard Michaels, a friend of his since college. When he brought the phone to his ear an automated voice spoke. “Please enjoy this music while your party is reached,” the woman’s voice intoned before the first beats of Chingy’s “Right Thurr” assaulted Jason’s eardrums. He held the phone away from his ear while he waited for Richard to pick up.
“Hello?” a deeper voice on the other end said.
“Rich, you know it’s me. I’m at the airport. Come pick me up.”
“Really, man? I just took Priscilla back to her apartment. Why couldn’t you have called then?” Richard said.
“Because the plane just pulled up to the gate,” Jason lied as he approached baggage check, “and besides, I don’t have a beast of a car like yours, remember?” Actually, Jason didn’t own a car. The only means of transportation he possessed were a moped and a beat-up, rusting Schwinn Varsity road bike.
“Screw you. That car’s been through a lot. It’s probably the most reliable thing I know.” Richard defended his blue 1972 Mini.
“Whatever. Come pick me up. I’m at Louis Armstrong again.” Jason hung up, knowing Richard would be late out of spite.
Half an hour later, a blue, rusted out Mini sped around the corner, screeching to a halt outside the airport doors, sunlight glinting off of the Mini crest on the hood, the only shiny part of the car left. Inside, Richard lay on the horn, which sounded more like a duck call compared to the other cars crowding the unloading area. Jason turned his back, pretending he didn’t see Richard pull up, causing Richard to shoot off a few more horn blasts, drawing angry looks from the other travelers outside the airport.
“Get over here!” Richard shouted out the driver’s side window at Jason.
“Alright, alright, I’m just messing with you.” Jason rounded the car and got in.
The Mini sputtered slightly as Richard put it into gear. Fifteen minutes later the car crossed a stone bridge over a creek and stopped in front of a stucco apartment building.
“Come on up and have a beer,” Jason told Richard. “You’re done with work for today anyway, right?”
“Yeah. Let me go park.”
Jason walked up to the green door and turned his key in the lock. He smiled as he walked into the building’s courtyard, decorated by lush foliage and a blue-tiled fountain that trickled into the waist-high basin. A breeze rolled through the courtyard tousling his light brown hair as he climbed the stairs to the third floor, where his flat was situated. He turned to see if Richard was behind him, then opened his door.
The two entered the apartment, a small, cozy place with a balcony overlooking the creek and the walk alongside it. Jason went immediately for the refrigerator to grab the beer while Richard flopped down on the futon Jason used for a couch, turning on the television. He immediately started flicking through the channels. He stopped on a soccer match, for lack of anything better to watch.
Jason sat next to Richard and handed him his beer. “Look what I got today, Rich.” he He tossed the wallet and watch on the coffee table.
“Where did you get this?” Richard said, examining the watch.
“Where do you think?”Jason smirked, rubbing the two day growth on his chin. “I got it from a guy at the airport. He was generous enough to part with them after helping me up when I tripped.”
“Why do you do this shit, Jason?” Richard asked. “One of these days you’re going to get caught.”
Jason met Richard’s eyes. “I don’t know why I keep doing it, Rich.” He swallowed hard, pausing to gather his thoughts. “I guess I really enjoy the rush it gives me.” Jason shrugged. “I want to live a normal life, but I just keep coming back to that rush, that excitement. I am afraid I’ll get caught, but for whatever reason even that risk isn’t enough to stop me.”
Richard looked concerned. He knew the next words to come out of Jason’s mouth. They would be about his job, door-to-door sales. Richard was the case for Jason’s jobs. When he was invited inside to sell the alarm system for the security company he worked for, Richard would give the house a once-over. He would note all entrances and exits, whether the owners had animals, any security issues, and what valuables the owners had. He would then give a recommendation to Jason on which house to hit.
“So, Rich, where’s the job this week?” Jason. Jason looked expectantly at Richard.
Richard looked away. “There isn’t one. Jason, I don’t want to do this anymore. Can’t we just be done? It’s not like another job is going to make a difference in anything.”
“Rich, we agreed this would be your last job anyway. Why do you want to chicken out of this one?”
“I don’t know.” Richard looked at the beer he held in his lap. “We never gained much from this anyway. It was a stupid idea in college to get money, and that’s all it will ever be.”
“Well, it may have been a stupid idea in college, but we’re still doing it, aren’t we?” Jason said. “Besides, we agreed on this a while ago. You would do this last one when I got back from my latest courier job, and that would be the end. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
With a look of frustration, Richard finally met Jason’s gaze and briefed him. “In the suburbs. A low-key wealthy home. I imagine there’s a safe somewhere in the house, though I’m not sure. They have a cat, but that shouldn’t be a problem. The access points on the ground floor are the front and back doors, the picture window in the kitchen, three windows in the study, and another two in the dining/living area. There are three windows to the master bedroom over the study and another two in the bedroom over the dining/living area. I estimate the couple is in their mid-fifties, but the man looks strong for his age, so be careful.”
“How tough did the lock look? Were there locks on the windows?” Richard could see the gears turning in Jason’s head.
“I did see locks on the windows and the door locks looked pretty secure. I doubt they have locks on the upstairs windows, though.”
“OK, I guess I’ll have to get in through the second story, then. I would rather not have to pick the doors if I can avoid it,” Jason said. “I’ll meet you at your place Friday around ten?”
“Yeah, the door’ll be unlocked,” Richard said. Richard rose then headed to the door. “And another thing, Priscilla can’t know what we’re doing. Dress as if we’re going to the bar or something,” Richard said then walked out the door.
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