1 Stranger in the Night

The strong, crisp breeze gives the night a wintry feel. Shrugging off the cold dampness, Antonio pulls his coat collar around his neck as he quickens his pace.

He soon realizes the tranquil night has an odd stillness to it causing a heavy tension to hover over the small southern town. Like it can sense, a catastrophe is about to occur. This unusual stillness makes the daunting task seem more unsettling.

Antonio didn't like this part of the business, breaking into homes in the middle of the night. Too much can go wrong, and he told his boss as much. Romero insisted the job be done tonight.

"Either do it, or I'll find someone to replace you," The thick Italian warned, chewing on his imported cigar.

The object he's after is a thirty-two GB flash drive. The small device contains enough information to put Romero and his crew away for life.

Reaching his destination, Antonio studies the house. The woman's apartment is an older Victorian that's been split in the center, turning a single-family home into a duplex while preserving its original classic charm. The home's lavender exterior accentuates the Victorian-white wrap-around porch. Like most houses in its time, the veranda is decorated with fancy turned spindles and lacy stick work. The large bell tower to the right adds to its grand appeal.

I need to find a way inside. Somewhere away from the cameras and the neighbor's view. Antonia sees an old-fashioned single-hung window when he walks to the back. This break-in should be a piece of cake. Pulling a tool from his pocket, he gets to work. A few minutes later, Antonio heaves his brawny body inside.

He hears sheets rustle in the other room when he slides through. He pulls the red velvet curtains in front of him and waits. Antonio's heart pounds fiercely in his chest; his breathing is quick and shallow. Beads of sweat pop out across his forehead despite the frigid night air seeping through the opening behind him. A clock's faint ticking in the near distance adds tension to the situation. I knew this was a bad idea. I just knew it. He glances at the window and then the room. Maybe I should try another day when she isn't home. He remembers Romero's warning. Screw the fat bastard and all his threats. His ass isn't the one hanging on the line here, mine is and I'll be damned if I go down for him again. He starts to climb back through when the noise subsides. He pauses in mid-motion. Maybe it will be alright. He straightens back up.

After what feels like hours of endless wait, he pulls a penlight from his pocket and searches the room. Abby's furniture is minimal. A faded olive love seat with a matching lazy boy recliner. Both seem to be a catchall for her stuff. What isn't in the chairs is strewed across the dusty, hardwood floor. Housekeeping isn't one of her strong suits. It wasn't my ex's either. One of the many reasons I kicked her to the curb. He carefully wades through the clutter as he looks around. He's on the far side of the apartment when she stirs again. He scurries to the darkened hallway and waits until the noise subsides.

He gazes towards the bedroom again. I need to get the gym bag, and I need to do it fast before she wakes up. Discovers a small tote by the front door, Antonio dashes towards it. A small area rug catches the tip of his boot. Losing his footing, he stumbles across the room. His feet slip out from under him, causing him to land on top of the antique coffee table. The furniture collapses from the weight sending him to the floor. Frightened the commotion woke her, he glances towards the bedroom door. To his relief, she remains still. He breathes a sigh of relief. Lady luck is on my side tonight. He holds the retrieved item up and sees it isn't the one he's after. I went through all of that for nothing. He tosses it aside.

Antonio starts to get to his feet when he hears footsteps beside him. Turning, he finds a long, thin object whizzing toward his head.

___

The soft moonlight glows through the second-story window. Joe and Rachel Bower are trying to catch up on some much-needed rest. Their infant son Joe Jr. is asleep in his crib down the hall. Joe is the captain of the Berry Pd. Rachel is his sergeant and wife. The couple practically grew up together, so it wasn't a big shock when they announced their engagement. A few friends jokingly asked what took them so long when they were told the news.

Joe is startled awake by the baby's cries. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and then looks at the clock. You were up just a few hours ago, little man. The baby's protests get louder. Joe glances over to find his beautiful wife sleeping peacefully beside him. Rachel needs her rest. The baby's wails thunder through their tiny two-bedroom, second-story apartment. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he whispers. He slips his legs out from the warm covers, shivers, and then heads down the hall.

The baby's chubby arms are flailing about when Joe flips on the light. "You have yourself all worked up." He lifts the tiny infant to his shoulder and pats his back. "There, there, it'll be alright, little guy." A warm, wet sensation runs down his bare chest. "Now I understand why you're so upset." Holding the child at arms' length away, Joe continues across the floor. "It's alright; daddy will take care of his little man." He lays him on the changing table and removes his soiled clothes. He quickly discovers a smelly surprise sliding down the infant's leg. A larger portion had already puddled in his pajama feet.

"I think you need a bath."

"Is the baby alright?" Yawning, Rachel leans against the door. Her face is pale, and her long, chocolate hair is a frightful mess.

If only her friends could see her now. Joe chuckles. Rachel is big on appearances. She refuses to go anywhere until she puts on her face. "He's fine; go on back to bed."

"Be careful when you change him because he might...." A small yellow stream shoots from their son. She snickers. "Pee on you," she finishes.

Joe shakes his head. "Thanks for the warning."

"No problem." Chuckling, she shuffles back to bed.

"We both need a bath now, little guy."