In the Wrong Hands by Porter Eidam

Author:Porter Eidam [Eidam, Porter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-17T22:00:00+00:00

THE PAINTING PARTY

Wednesday

1. The Shed

Philip looked at himself in the cracked, full-length mirror next to his uncle’s work bench. The bare-chested man in a diaper staring back didn’t exactly give off the musk of the hero he felt himself to be. He had to make a joke of it, or he’d never leave the shed. He puffed out a faux-Asian grunt, took the stance of a sumo wrestler, and stamped his feet on the weathered hardwood floor one at a time. He tried a second, beefier grunt, but all that came out was a snort and a laugh.

The day was going to be either a major triumph or a colossal waste of time. With music that reminded him of a happier time blaring from a dusty, paint-spattered boom box, he got dressed and checked his gear.

He’d dug up an old backpack that no one knew he owned and filled it with his weapon, ammo, the latest incarnation of his collapsible tree stand, three bottles of water, a handful of protein bars, a tan wool hat, and a camouflage bandana that was pre-tied to fit over his face.

He dressed in earth tones that wouldn’t draw attention when he walked from his parking space to the church. He knew the resulting investigation would be intense, and the police would probably find fibers and DNA all over his perch. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t in the system. He hadn’t received so much as a parking ticket since he was in high school. True, after today, he (or at least his remnants) would be in the system, but that wouldn’t be an issue until they caught up with him. By then, it would all be a moot point.

He would get caught in the end. He knew this. It was not only anticipated, but necessary.

The half-fixed motorcycle sat before him as he pulled on his green windbreaker. Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he felt two different kinds of pride.

The smell of wood and motor oil permeated his senses. He took a quick look out of one of the windows. Through the smoke-stained glass, he saw the sunrise.

“Okay, Lord. Let’s rock.”

2. Out for a Run

Kelly had her morning routine. The veterinarian she assisted normally didn’t expect her in until 10:00, which gave her time to run three miles, shower, and eat her cream-cheese-slathered whole wheat bagel without having to wake up before the birds. Today, she would have to call in sick so she could meet with Lynch. Her boss would be cool with it. She never called in sick.

She also never burdened herself with keys or a cell phone when she ran. She could trust an unlocked apartment for an hour. It was that kind of neighborhood.

She glanced at her wall calendar on her way out the door. There was a UJ painting party that night. She, to put it lightly, didn’t want to go. She enjoyed illegal drugs and acts of depravity just as much as the next person, but things had changed since Jeremy’s beating.

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