Home Invasion (3 page)

Bookshelves lined the big, square den from floor to ceiling. On these shelves stood hundreds of books. Many of them were first editions that Kathy knew were worth a lot of money. She also knew that the men who had broken into her home had no interest in books. They only wanted cash and jewellery.

“Where’s your purse?” the thin man demanded as he pushed Kathy into the den.

Kathy breathed deeply, trying to control the rapid beating of her heart. Her eyes shot from one end of the room to the other. She saw the comfy brown velvet sofa across from the large oak desk and its brown leather chair. Just yesterday morning she’d sat in that chair,
writing an email to Michael, arranging their coffee date. A flash of panic shot through Kathy’s body. Would the thieves take her computer? she wondered. Would these awful men stumble upon her emails? The thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

Kathy looked around the room for her purse, but she couldn’t see it. Where had she put it?

Her eyes continued their frantic search. They raced across the pale blue carpet and the glass coffee table in front of the sofa. How many times had she yelled at Jack for putting his feet up on that coffee table when he was watching TV? Did these awful men plan on stealing the TV as well? How would they be able to carry it outside? Did they have a van waiting in the driveway to cart everything away? Were more men waiting outside to help them?

Kathy glanced from the desk to the window. Except for the street lights, it was dark outside. The moon was only a tiny sliver in the sky. There were no cars. It was the middle of the night, after all. Her neighbours were no doubt sound asleep. Were they dreaming about past
lovers? Kathy wondered. Did they feel safe and snug in their beds, as she had only a short time ago?

Kathy doubted she’d ever feel truly safe again.

Somewhere behind her, Jack groaned. Kathy turned around just as Steve pushed Jack into the room. The front of Jack’s T-shirt was drenched with blood. Red streaks marked his pale skin. He looked as if he might pass out again. “Jack,” she said. “Are you all right?”

“He’s a dead man if we don’t see some money soon,” the robber named Steve told her. He pushed Jack to the sofa and pressed his gun against Jack’s head. His threat was real.

“I’m not seeing any purse,” the thin man said.

“Maybe I left it in the kitchen,” Kathy said quickly, trying to remember where she’d put it. Her heart was pounding. Her head was swimming. She could barely remember her own name.

“Don’t play with us, lady,” Steve said. “I’m not in the mood for games. Where’s your purse?”

“I don’t know,” Kathy cried. “I always leave it on the floor beside the desk.”

The thin man laughed. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to leave a purse on the floor?” He laughed again. “My mother always says that.”

Steve glared at his partner. “Oh, this is real good. Why don’t we all just sit down and have a nice little chat? Let’s get to know each other better,” he said. “You can tell this nice lady all about yourself. And your mom. Maybe even the puppy you had when you were a kid. You’ll make it real easy for the police to catch us later.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t...”

“Just shut up,” Steve ordered. “The less you open your mouth, the better off we’ll be.”

“Hey,” the thin man argued. “This was my idea, remember? You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. I’m the one who told you about this place.”

What did he mean? Kathy wondered. Had he been in her house before? When? Did she know him? Her mind began to race. Where did she know the man from?

Could this young man be one of Lisa’s friends? Could Lisa somehow be involved? Lisa was a smart girl, much smarter than either of these guys. Had Lisa planned everything, then
stayed away during the actual break-in? Did she leave the young men to do the dirty work? Does Lisa hate me that much? Kathy wondered.

“Hey, who’s the babe?” Steve asked suddenly. He lifted a framed picture of Jack’s daughter from the desk. In the photo, Lisa looked relaxed and happy. Her brown hair fell to her waist, and she was smiling.

Lisa looks so pretty in that photo, Kathy thought. She tried to remember the last time she’d seen Lisa smile.

“Who is she?” Steve asked again.

“My stepdaughter,” Kathy told him.

“Yeah? Where is she?”

“She’s spending the night with a friend.”

Steve laughed. “Is that what she told you?”

Kathy said nothing. What was Steve saying? That Lisa was lying?

“Too bad she’s not here,” Steve said. “We could have had a little party. Maybe we should stick around a while and wait for Lisa to come home.”

“Just take what you want and get out of here,” Jack said.

Steve took two quick strides back toward Jack. He raised his gun and pointed it at Jack’s head. “What did you say, old man?”

“Please,” Kathy pleaded. “He didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t give the orders here, old man. I should shoot you right now,” Steve said.

“There’s my purse,” Kathy cried. She saw it tucked away in the far corner of the room. The drapes almost hid it.

The thin man quickly scooped Kathy’s purse off the floor and began looking inside it. Seconds later, he pulled out Kathy’s wallet. He counted out three hundred dollars in crisp fifty- and twenty-dollar bills. He laughed. “Looks like she’s richer than you are, old man.”

“Big deal,” Steve said. “A grand total of four hundred and forty dollars between them. Hardly worth the effort. What about credit cards?”

“Oh, she’s got lots of those.” The thin man took five credit cards from Kathy’s wallet. “And best of all, a bank card.” He waved Kathy’s bank card in the air proudly, as if it were a flag. “This could be even better than a safe.”

“You got a bank card, too, old man?” Steve pulled out Jack’s wallet and peeked inside. “Why,
yes, you do. Looks like we’ll be needing your PIN numbers,” he said.

“Don’t even think of lying to us,” the thin man warned. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper off the desk. “What are your PINS?”

“7-8-7-0,” Kathy said. The seventh day of the eighth month, 1970. Her birthday. “We use the same codes for all the cards,” she said.

“Well, well. How nice of you. Isn’t that nice of Mrs. Brown to make it so easy for us, Steve?” the thin man asked. He started to stuff Kathy’s credit cards into the side pocket of his jeans.

“Better give those to me,” Steve said.

“What for?”

“Might as well keep all the cards in the same place.” Steve held out his hand.

The thin man slowly handed over Kathy’s credit cards.

“The bank card, too.”

“I thought I’d keep that one.”

“Gimme it,” Steve ordered.

“Why do you get to keep them?”

Kathy could see the thin man pouting behind his ski mask.

“Because I’m the one who’s going to get the money, that’s why,” Steve said.

“And where am I going to be while you’re out getting the money?” the thin man asked.

“You’re going to be here, keeping an eye on these two. Once I get my hands on the money, I’ll phone you.” Steve looked at Kathy. “If everything goes smoothly, then nobody gets hurt. If anything goes wrong, then I’m coming back here to kill you both. Do you understand?”

Tears filled Kathy’s eyes. She nodded.

“Tell me you understand,” Steve said.

“I understand,” Kathy said.

“I sure hope you do,” Steve said. “But just in case you don’t, I’m going to give you a sneak preview. Here’s what’s going to happen if anything goes wrong.” Steve grabbed Jack by the front of his bloody T-shirt and pulled him off the sofa to his feet.

“No, please,” Kathy cried as Steve brought his fist down hard across Jack’s nose. Kathy heard a bone break. “No! Stop! Please stop!”

Then Steve slammed his fist into Jack’s stomach.

“Stop,” Kathy begged. “You’re killing him.”

“Trust me, I’m just getting started.” Steve laughed as he let go of Jack and watched him slide to the floor. Jack coughed up blood and gasped for air. “I’m saving the good stuff till later,” Steve said. Then he pushed Kathy to the floor beside her husband. Her knees hit the carpet with a thud.

Kathy wanted to cradle Jack’s head in her lap. She wanted to wipe the blood from his face and kiss his broken nose. But her hands were tied behind her back, and all she could do was look at him and cry.

“Kathy,” Jack moaned.

“I’m right here.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay,” Kathy told him. “It’s you...”

“I’m okay.”

“How sweet,” Steve sneered. “Sorry to break this up, lovebirds, but all good things must come to an end. Tie their ankles,” he ordered his partner.

The thin man didn’t move. “Who died and made you boss?” he asked.

“You want me to tie their ankles?” Steve said. “Fine. I’ll tie their ankles.”

Seconds later, Jack’s and Kathy’s ankles were tightly bound.

“We wouldn’t want you running off anywhere,” Steve said, and laughed again. Then he walked toward the hall. “Okay, I’m off. Why don’t you check out the rest of the house while I’m gone?” he said to his partner. “I’m betting there’s a safe here somewhere. And if these two give you any trouble at all,” he added, waving his gun at Jack and Kathy, “shoot them.”

The thin man followed his partner into the hall. For a few seconds, the two men whispered together. Then Kathy heard the front door slam shut. A car started up and backed out of the driveway. Just then, the thin man popped his head around the den door.

“You got anything to eat?” he asked.

Was he serious? Kathy wondered. He was hungry?

“I’m starving,” the thin man said. “How about fixing me a sandwich?”

“You want a sandwich?” Kathy repeated. Was this a joke?

“I know you have lots of tuna,” the man said.

How does he know that? Kathy thought. Has he already looked through my kitchen cupboards? Or has he been here before?

The man didn’t wait for Kathy to respond. He untied her feet and grabbed her by her arm. Despite his thin frame, he was very strong, Kathy noted. “Might as well make yourself useful while we wait,” he snarled. Then he looked down at Jack, who was lying on the floor. Blood hid most of Jack’s face.

All that blood looks like a mask, Kathy thought. She glanced from Jack’s face to the face of the man in the ski mask.

“Don’t so much as move a muscle, old man,” the thin man warned Jack. “If you do, your wife is a dead woman.”

Kathy felt a flash of anger. She didn’t know which was worse, the threat or how the two men kept calling her husband an old man.

Then she flushed with shame. Hadn’t she been thinking the same thing about Jack less than an hour ago?

Jack groaned, but he didn’t move. The thin man pushed Kathy from the den into the hall.
Then he shoved her through the dining room into her modern, all-white kitchen. How does he know where the kitchen is? Kathy wondered.

“I’m going to untie your hands now,” the man said, “so you can make me the sandwich. But I’ve got this gun pointed at your head. If you try anything funny, I’m going to shoot you. And then I’m going to shoot your husband,” he warned. “Then I’m going to wait for pretty little Lisa. And when she comes home, I’m going to shoot her, too. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” The man tugged at the rope around Kathy’s wrists. Soon Kathy could slip her hands free.

She rubbed her sore wrists. “Can we turn on a light?” she asked. She hoped the light would let a neighbour see into her kitchen. Seeing a man in a ski mask, the neighbour would surely call the police.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” the thin man asked. He pushed Kathy against the kitchen counter. “I want the sandwich on rye bread,” he told her. “You must have some of that left.”

How did the man know what kind of bread she had? Kathy wondered. When had he been here? Who was he?

“What are you waiting for?” the man asked.

Kathy pulled a tin of tuna from one of the cupboards. She opened it with the electric can opener that sat beside the toaster. Then she got the rye bread from the breadbox and some butter from the fridge. “I’ll need to use a knife and fork to make the sandwich,” Kathy told the man.