The Killing Point by Kate Bold

Author:Kate Bold [Bold, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kate Bold
Published: 2022-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Vicente Pérez sat in the living room of the Delany home, trying to relax and plan his next move.

Delany. That was their last name. Jeff, the nine-year-old son, had told him that. The younger sisters were Elaine and Rianna, eight and five. They had been quiet for a while.

He made sure they remained quiet.

This was a pretty safe place for the moment. Like many middle-class people, the Delanys didn’t seem to know any of their neighbors. None had come over, anyway. You could never take over a home in the barrio for a whole 24 hours without a dozen people noticing. Why would people want to live cut off from their community like this?

You do. You’re cut off from everyone.

I’m different.

I was MADE different.

The only problem was the wife, away in Los Angeles on a business trip. He didn’t know her name. “Mom” was all the kids ever called her. She had called the dad several times, but that hadn’t taught Vicente her name since the contact number was listed as three hearts. Luckily it turned out that Jeff knew his father’s phone code. A little convincing got him to unlock it and Vicente sent a text to her saying he had lost his voice and the kids were “just fine.”

That led to a romantic little interchange full of hearts and emojis. Vicente even chuckled a bit over it, something he hardly ever did about anything.

That had been last night. The next day the messages grew more pressing, more curious. She had asked to speak with the kids, and he had ignored the question, which got her suspicions up. Plus, she wasn’t buying that laryngitis story anymore. “What’s going on?” turned to “What’s wrong?” turned to “What are you hiding?”

At last, he had to cut her off with, “I’ve been thinking about us and our future. We’ll talk when you get back. I don’t want to talk right now. The kids are fine. Please don’t text me again.”

That had been a mistake. You can’t land a bombshell like that on a woman and expect her to remain silent. The phone got flooded with desperate messages and missed calls. Finally, he switched it off. It was a distraction and he needed to think.

Sooner or later this place would become unsafe. The wife wasn’t due back for another two days but after all that she might come back early. Plus, the husband, whose body was stuffed in the laundry room with the pizza guy and was already beginning to stink, had missed work today. Vicente had sent a text calling in sick and ignored a call in return.

He needed to move.

Vicente checked the flesh wound on his side, bandaged with the First Aid kit the Delanys kept in their bathroom. The bleeding had stopped long ago, the pain was nothing to a man like him, and the wound didn’t interfere with his movements. He was ready to go.

But something made him linger. This house was comfortable. Food in the fridge. Nice furnishings.

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