The Housewife Assassin's Deadly Dossier (12 page)

And yes, someday, somehow, all of us are targets.

“That must be her.” Arnie nodded toward the front door of the house across the street.

With lightning speed, Jack, who had been busy unpacking some of their surveillance gear, grabbed a pair of binoculars and ducked below the large bowed window just in time to see a woman emerging from the Stone residence—240 Hilldale Drive.
 

She was nothing like he’d imagined. She was just…normal.
 

She was of medium height—from where she stood in the threshold of the door, he estimated she was five feet and six inches, maybe five-seven. And she was slender and small-boned, with none of the baby fat that you see on most women who have just delivered a child.

Then again, most women don’t lose their husbands on the very same night.

Donna Stone’s hair, straight and brown, fell just below her shoulders. Her face was pretty enough—her nose turned up slightly at the end, her cheekbones were high, all the more emphasized by her heart-shaped face and her small cupid-bow mouth.
 

Just at that moment, she turned her face directly to him—

And smiled.

Seeing it, straight on, he realized why Carl had fallen in love with her.
 

It must have been that look in her wide, deep-set blue eyes. Despite the sadness he saw in them, there was also steely determination.

It would be so easy to fall in love with Donna Stone.

Jack shook the thought out of his mind.
 

He watched as Donna turned her head back into the house, making a sweeping motion with her hands. Suddenly two small children appeared at her side. An older woman came out, too. She was holding an infant in a handheld carrier.

“That’s Phyllis Lindholm, Donna’s aunt on her mother’s side,” Arnie offered. “The kids stayed at her place while Donna was at the hospital delivering the infant, Trisha.”
 

Together, with the children between them, the two women walked out toward the car parked in the driveway—a Toyota Highlander hybrid.
 

“Where are they headed?” Jack asked. He knew Arnie had been listening remotely since Donna had risen to wake the children for school. As good as the audio reception was now, it would be even better once they broke into the house and bugged it.
 

“We’ve got a couple of hours. It’s the kids’ first day at their new school,” Arnie explained. “Donna wants to walk them into their classrooms so that they can meet their teachers. Afterward, she and Phyllis are going grocery shopping, then to Costco and Home Depot.” He paused to pop a stick of gum in his mouth. “Phyllis insists on staying with Donna for two weeks, or however long she feels she needs her, especially since Carl is ‘out of town.’” He winced. “But she’s ragging on Donna about Carl’s lousy timing. Every time she does, Donna defends him. It’s breaking my heart because she sounds as if she’s going to cry.”

“Enough already,” Jack said gruffly. “It’s beginning to sound like a regular soap opera.”
 

Arnie sniffed. “Dude—have a heart!”

“Yeah, okay.” Jack shrugged. The way his heart was pounding, he was surprised Arnie couldn’t hear it, what with all the audio monitors in their house. “Having Phyllis here is both a curse and a blessing. Thank goodness they’re leaving together. If Phyllis stayed behind, we wouldn’t have this opportunity to drop a few bugs.” He grabbed one of the two duffel bags with their gear. “Listen, any time Phyllis separates from Donna over the next few days, one of us should follow and try to strike up a conversation. She may not know anything, but then again, Donna may have confided in her about Carl’s mood prior to the accident.”
 

Arnie’s eyes lit up. “Wow, great!” He grabbed the other bag. “Hey, can I wear a disguise? If it’s in the park, I can pull off a bum easily.”

“I don’t doubt it in the least.” Jack shook his head. “Just what we need—you getting arrested for panhandling Hilldale’s fine citizens. Never mind. Let’s get cracking in case they forgot the diaper bag again.”

Arnie had already broken the passcode that armed the home’s security system. They went into the garage and got into their car, then drove around the block until they were on the far side of the house. Then they climbed over the stone wall and into the backyard.

The good news: the back door was equipped with a built-in dog door.

The bad news: the Stones had a dog. A big dog. One that growled.

“Ryan forgot to mention this,” Arnie muttered in a shaking voice.

“Turn around as you normally would, and go back to the house. Grab some of the packaged cheese out of the fridge,” Jack suggested. “He’ll love us in no time.”

Arnie was gone in flash.

The dog, a blond collie, ran at his heels, barking.
 

Before a neighbor could come out to see what was happening, Jack slipped in through the dog door, pulling one duffel in behind him, then the other.

A lot of the Stones’ things were still in boxes.
 

This is going to make it virtually impossible for us to find the thumb drive, if it’s here, Jack thought. As for the other intel that might have also been in Carl’s possession, what form was it in—a file folder of papers? A microdot? Was it another thumb drive?
 

He came to the conclusion that the best place to start was the bedroom, and he walked upstairs. When he got there, from what he could tell, things were more organized. Clothes were hung in closets, or folded neatly in drawers. Linens were already stacked on the shelves.
 

He started with the dressers. The tall boy had to be Carl’s. The top drawer was just deep enough to hold a man’s wallet. Ties were laid out, flat, in rows. There were several small boxes that held cufflinks. Others held tie clips.
 

One slim box held four tickets to an upcoming Dodgers game. Apparently, Carl had planned on taking the family.

Jack doubted Donna would take them in his stead.

He opened the next drawer to find it equally divided between the dead man’s socks and underwear. All were neatly folded. He sifted through the items with a gloved hand, feeling between them for anything hard and small, like the thumb drive, but finding nothing.

He repeated the search in the rest of the drawers, again finding nothing.

Then he moved on to Donna’s dresser. It felt odd going through the woman’s unmentionables. Unlike her husband, her underwear was tossed in the drawer, willy-nilly. Like most of the women he knew, the garments came in all colors. While there were some more modest items, she owned a thong or two.

Or three or four.
 

And a pair of pink furry handcuffs.

Obviously, there’s more to Mrs. Stone than meets the eye, he thought as he held up a white lace thong.

After going through the rest of her drawers with no success, he moved onto the closet. It was large, and the husband and wife were meant to share it—her dresses on one side, Carl’s suits on the other.
 

He wondered how long Carl’s things would hang there before Donna felt ready to part with them.

Until she got tired of crying herself to sleep each night.

He went through all the pockets, first of the suits and then of Donna’s dresses and coats. No luck.

Donna’s shoes were laid out, but Carl’s shoes were still packed in boxes, on the deep top shelf, along with other boxes. He shifted one over. When he did, another fell. He cursed himself for his clumsiness. As he stacked the items back into the box, one caught his interest—

A portable gun vault.

It took a few moments to pick the lock. A Sig P250 was inside.
 

It must have been Donna’s gun, since Carl had his with him at the end.

He hoped she knew how to use it.

While Arnie inserted audio bugs, Jack went through every room in search of the thumb drive. Besides looking in the obvious places—drawers, cabinets, bins, and pockets—he opened up jewelry and music boxes, searched books for cut-outs, felt through seams in the furniture, drapery, and into every nook and cranny he could find.

He came up with absolutely nothing.

When he was done, he assisted Arnie with replacing the down lighting domes with similar ones containing miniature webcams.
 

After every installation, Arnie tested each monitor’s signal with an iPad. In between testing, he nibbled at a leftover casserole dish of chicken potpie that was on the counter. Lassie, who was now his new best friend, begged and whined at his feet.
 

“Hey, don’t make too big of a dent in that pie,” Jack warned him.

“But it’s so good!” Arnie exclaimed with a full mouth. “Damn, this woman can cook! It’s nothing like that store-bought crap our moms used to feed us as kids. Here, have a bite.”
 

He held out his spoon.

Seeing this, Lassie leaped up on her back legs.

Surprised, Arnie jerked his arm away.

The casserole dish fell onto the floor.

Outside, the sound of a car could be heard, pulling into the drive.

“Oh…shit!” Arnie spit out potpie as he grabbed his duffel bag and headed for the dog door.

Jack rolled out behind him.

Lassie heard the car, too. Maybe she remembered her primary allegiance was to the family, or maybe it was the potpie all over the kitchen floor, but in any case, she stayed put.

The men waited until Donna and her family were in the house before rolling the car back into the garage of the rental house across the street. Once they were inside, Arnie clicked on the webcam in time for him and Jack to see Donna scolding Lassie, and shooing her out the door.

“I feel guilty,” Arnie admitted.

“You should,” Jack chided him. “I hope it was worth it.”

Arnie rubbed his stomach. “Heaven on a spoon. So, that’s what it’s like to have a good home-cooked meal! No wonder Carl married her.”

Arnie would know better if he’d been the one rummaging through Donna’s panty drawer.
 

So that he could get her white lace thong panty out of his mind, Jack quickly got to work.