The Paranoid Thief (25 page)

“Do we have time for a light meal?” Jill
jokingly asked, trying to soothe away some of her tension.

“Oh sure, just give me an hour and I’ll
whip up a meal to discuss his bank account over while we sip on his favorite
wine,” Randolph remarked dryly, secretly wishing he could.

Jill stuck out her tongue then snapped her
head to the entrance-way further in, instantly on guard and waving Randolph
quiet.

Randolph waved off Jill’s deadly
intentions, signaling her to hide as the lights in the other room turned on.

Jill shot a glare at Randolph as he
squeezed behind the dishwasher. Obviously not wishing to lose the element of
surprise, and only for his sake, she stepped into the cooler.

Randolph took note of Jill’s decision with
thanks, and settled comfortably a moment before he heard talking in the other
room, drawing closer to the kitchen.

“I’m telling you, there’s something wrong,”
Randolph heard an angry voice complain as the kitchen lights came on and the
door swung open. “Mr. Hilden’s bedroom lights are not on, yet I saw movement
flicker on my screen in this room.”

Randolph ducked low as he could get, and
only then noticed the washer was polished stainless steel. Upon seeing the
reflected images of the two men approaching, Randolph knew to a certainty if he
could see them, they sure as hell could see him if they were even remotely
careful in looking around. Sending a glance upward for help, Randolph watched
the men separate around the preparation station as the other man commented.

“Well, I don’t see anyone. The outside
alarms are not going off, nor are the ones in here. Mr. Hilden must be up if he
was even down here or we’d have our ears blasted off with alarms.”

“But what if it’s that guy Mr. Hilden’s
been so upset about? He’s supposed to be the very best at circumventing even
state-of-the-art equipment.”

“Jeff, you’re giving the guy way too much
credit. Mr. Hilden has four systems alone covering the grounds, and if that
doesn’t get him, the explosive pressure plates in the yard will.”

“But what of his new companion, isn’t she
supposed to be a top notch assassin?”

“She’s an ex-military sniper, you dolt,
which makes her absolutely useless in close combat. Besides, if she does make
it to the house, Mr. Hilden has a special surprise for her. Now will you get
your look see over with, so I can get back to my video show?”

“I still want to report this,” Jeff
grumbled.

“Oh, for the love
of…there’s no one in here damn it!”
The other pulled open the cooler,
motioning his partner to have a peek. “If there was, this is the only place a
person could hide.”

Randolph closed his eyes briefly in
anticipation of the coming seconds, but surprisingly nothing happened. No
shouts. No bodies falling. Nothing! To his surprise, Randolph opened an eye and
saw Jill within the cooler, spayed-legged, both guns raised, but as neither man
looked in the cooler before the door slammed closed, she never fired a shot.

“Satisfied?” the one nearest to the cooler
griped. “Now cut the crap and let’s get back to our office, perhaps your
equipment needs a diagnostic test.”

Jeff grumbled, but seemed to concede the
point to his partner as they left Randolph alone with his heart attack.

When the door closed and the lights went off,
it took Randolph some moments before he could get his rubbery legs to support
him in squeezing out of his hiding
hole
and over to
open the cooler door for Jill to step out.

“Thanks for not shooting,” Randolph said
with sincere gratitude.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, closing the
door and rubbing her arms. “Because I didn’t take them out when the opportunity
presented itself, we may have to deal with them at a later point, more likely
at a time most inconvenient for us.”

Randolph regretted the fact Jill could very
well be right if he made a mistake; still, he feverishly hoped he lived up to
Mr. Hilden’s expectations.

Reapplying the night vision goggles,
Randolph motioned Jill to follow, and moved up to the door. He opened it enough
to look both ways down the wooden hallway.

“Which way?”
Jill
whispered.

“I don’t know—this hallway’s not supposed
to be here,” Randolph said over his shoulder. The front of the home would be
their best bet. He slipped out, and made himself like a piece of wallpaper,
moving with practiced ease along the wall.

Randolph stopped at a door on their side as
the wall in front of them ended in an entertaining room. With a look-see in the
door, he breathed, “Bathroom.”

Jill nodded as he flattened himself up on
the other wall so he could peek around the entertaining room with relative
concealment. From where he stood, the wooden flooring below his feet vanished,
and a white polished marble floor began. Next he took note of the sheep-skinned
furniture, oak trunk tables and the absolutely beautiful redwood coffee table with
an oblong glass top. With a stray thought of his mother, and how she would like
that table, Randolph looked past the sound system and found the stairs by a
low-level glow.

Having learned from the guards’ inspection
there was a secondary alarm running to register movement, most likely installed
to keep track of any guests, Randolph signaled Jill to the floor and they
crawled along like two water spiders till making the stairs.

Once seated on the first rug-covered step,
Jill whispered, “Did you catch a look at his video pictures? They’re quite
lovely.”

Randolph glanced sideways at Jill, removed
his goggles and looked about. Four video
pictures,
each depicted the Virgin Islands before the last storm some twenty years back
wiped them clean.

“Yes, they’re quite lovely,” he admitted,
as he watched one move between night and day in only a few seconds. “Now keep
low and your weight evenly distributed as we ascend.”

“As you say, love,” Jill whispered with a
bit more affection in her voice then the present situation dictated.

Randolph looked more closely at Jill,
wondering if she’d allowed her softer side out; she was only one of the two to
use terms of endearment with such feeling. But then Randolph discarded the
notion, knowing full well Jill wouldn't be that stupid. As the pair moved
between duel saltwater tanks to either side of the stairs, with an abundance of
sea clams, colorful coral, clown fish and the very poisonous but beautiful lion
fish, Jill took that moment to tap him on the shoulder.

“Darling, this gives me a grand idea.”

“Oh, what about?”
Randolph asked, stopping mid way up the stairs to turn and look her in the
eyes, trying to see if he was wrong about his assessment.

“Our home-to-be of course, wouldn’t a tank
like this be absolutely adorable in the wall between the living room and
kitchen?”

What in the hell was Jill up to? “Jill,” he
began kindly so as not to upset her, “as much as I love you, this is not the
time for you to be out. Could you please trade places?”

“Oh, sorry, love, it’s just that I’ve never
seen how the rich live. And by the looks of this place so far, those
entertainment videos don’t truly do the rich any justice if their homes look
even half as good as this place is, even in the dark.”

“Tell you what—if this pans out, I’ll build
a place for the three of us. Now, if you don’t mind, please let your other half
out.”

“Hmm, of course, love,” Jill’s softer side
intoned with some regret, then stood on tiptoes to lean into Randolph so she
could passionately kiss and hug him.

“Jill, please, this is neither the place
nor the time,” he scolded quietly.

“As you say, love,” she answered, then her
eyes changed and the other Jill was out. “You’re lucky that’s all she did. I
got an image she was trying to come up with a way to pull you back into the bathroom
we passed.”

“What for?”
Randolph asked mildly, much relieved.

“I’m afraid both of us are feeling horny
right now,” Jill explained without embarrassment.

Randolph turned with raised eyebrows to her
admission.

She shrugged. “I can’t help how we feel. My
only
thoughts on the matter is
it’s this tropical
setting. Perhaps he has the air scented with some stimulants.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Randolph
remarked, irritated.
How could anyone get
turned on while deep in enemy territory? But then there are those who like the
thrill of doing it in public places where the risk of getting caught heightens
the sexual experience.

When Jill gave no other comment, Randolph
took her words at face value, as they were far too deep in Mr. Hilden’s home,
to argue the matter out. With a quick check into Jill’s eyes one last time,
Randolph signaled her to proceed up the remainder of the stairs.

Silently he replaced his desire to throttle
Jill for allowing her softer side out.
If
the truth were to be told, I’d rather rob a business any day over the simplest
home break-ins. For two reasons really; one, there really ought to be a place a
man can relax without having to worry about fighting off the wolf after working
a full day at his job; and two, businesses don’t have little surprises like
yappy dogs or animals—like the cat that just shot by us heading down stairs!

“John, are you all right?” Jill whispered,
touching his shoulder with concern as he looked skyward holding a hand to his
pounding heart.

Randolph patted her hand, nodding, then
caught the name she’d called him by and hissed, “What are you doing out? I need
your stronger self out right now.”

“It’s all right love, she’s having a hard
time with something and told me she needs time to think about it, but don’t
worry, if she’s needed I’ll tell her.”

“Uh-huh. Jill, this is not a time to keep
switching about. I need to know who I’m with and if truth be told, I really
need your stronger personality out right now,” Randolph explained, starting to
lose his patients.

“That’s what I thought as well. But she
assures me this is the best for the three of us.”

“No offense, but how is having an
inexperience person guarding my back an advantage?” He argued softly, trying
not to let his agitation spill out to upset her.

“She didn’t say.” She shrugged.

Her response held no signs indicating she
knew how really dangerous this was.

Catching another look in her eyes that made
him wish he could risk backing them out of the home, Randolph decided to try
once more. “Jill, please, would you ignore her wish and change places?”

“Anything for you, love,” Jill whispered,
putting her arms around him, squeezing.

Randolph awaited the transition; she hugged
him tighter as if not wishing to let go. Then she pulled away, allowing her
hands to slide down his arms before looking up into his eyes with adoring
passion.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, love, she won’t do it.” Jill
smiled up on him, allowing her fingers to linger on his palms before she put
her hands behind her as if trying to control them. “She said, and I quote,
‘Stuff it, sweetie, this is best for all concerned.’” Longing filled her eyes
as she shrugged and smiled.

Grinding his teeth, not believing they were
having this hushed conversation deep in the lion’s
den,
Randolph rubbed his face and hissed.
“All right.
Fine,
just please keep alert.”

Jill nodded she would. So Randolph
reluctantly moved them deeper into the ants’ nest, because in truth, if they
left now, he would never get in this deep again.

By now the systems outside had backed up
and reset, meaning it would be too risky to leave anyway, especially dragging
along an inexperienced child, which is how Jill’s softer side would react to
the alarms and armed guards. With a gesture she was to stay put at the top of
the stairs, Randolph slipped quietly along the wall, checking out three doors
in succession along the right end of the hallway. Once near the first door, he
pulled out an ordinary stethoscope and placed it on the door; hearing nothing,
he silently opened it to reveal a spare bedroom. Next
came
a bathroom at the end of the hall, then loud snoring from the next door. With
Mr. Hilden located, Randolph moved to the other side of the stairway, finding
the study.

Randolph reapplied the spectrum goggles,
dialed through the selections and found nothing.
Good.
Randolph smiled.
That’s
how it should be.
Signaling Jill to come over quietly, he checked the door
once more out of anxiety and felt her arms go around his middle before she
snuggled up to his back.

“Jill, what are you doing?”

“Hmm?
Oh, sorry,
darling,” she said giving another squeeze before letting go. “It’s just that I
love you so very much.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t love
me quite that much right now, okay?”

“I’ll try,” she smiled, using a finger to brush
a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

Not understanding what was with her,
Randolph got them inside and the door closed. “Jill, what’s going on with you?
You’re acting crazy—you’re all touchy feely at a time I don’t need to be
distracted!”

Jill looked on him with eyes
uncomprehending to their situation, and laid a hand on his face tenderly.

Randolph grabbed her wrist. “Stop it! This
is neither the time nor place. Now sit here”—he indicated a chair next to the
door—“and be still!”

Jill nodded she would, and took off her
jacket, laying it across her lap and interlacing her fingers, resting her hands
on the jacket just as if she were waiting for him to try on clothing in an
apparel department.

To her apparent submission to his will,
Randolph nodded approval, and turned to view the room with the night vision
goggles. Wood paneling made the room seem cozy, with the added lingering scent
of cigar smoke. This told him Mr. Hilden had a habit of spending hours relaxing
in the leather chair behind the desk, most likely eyeing the activity scrolling
across the two screens, each angled to face the chair from the opposite corners
of the desk. Behind this and in the corner was a coat and hat rack with a
smoking jacket hanging off one prong.
Possibly
waiting to be worn for another day of destroying someone's life,
Randolph
remarked dryly, envisioning the evil smirk Mr. Hilden had given him in the
execution chamber. Shaking off that bit of memory, Randolph noted no windows
but eight video screens, each exactly placed, so it was child’s play to pick
out the one with the wall safe behind it. With a smile, Randolph walked the few
steps to the wall and set out his tools carefully on the rug floor. After
eyeing the video frame a moment, he pulled out and turned on the pen-light,
laying his head close to the wall to look over the edges without touching its
surface, as some had movement sensors. Checking that security measure off the
list, Randolph slid two exposed wires up underneath the frame and watched his
palm meter screen. For a moment, Randolph puzzled over the lack of protection a
blackmail artist used to keep his files locked away. But not one to argue that
matter, Randolph looked over at Jill to make certain she was still seated, and
found her bouncing her legs and gripping the jacket as if trying to stave off
something.

“Bathroom?” he mouthed.

Jill bit her lip, and denied the need,
though to Randolph she looked as if she needed something and whatever it was
she needed it now. With a hope she was simply reacting to the stressful
situation, he turned back to the frame and calmly moved it out of the way.

Seeing the
Craymore
6000 nestled in the wall, Randolph smirked, remembering the sales commercial,
advertising it as the ultimate in home security, with a forty-number keypad and
switchable dial for changing the numbers to symbols, making the
Craymore
6000 home security safe virtually un-
crackable
.
Virtually.

Digging into his pack of goodies, Randolph
removed two alligator clips and a length of electrical cord, but before he put
them to use, he heard a whimper from behind and shot a glance Jill’s way. To
his dismay, he discovered Jill sitting on the edge of her chair, in some
agitation, watching every move he made. Not liking the situation, as he held no
idea what to do with her, he proceeded to clamp the clips on the handle and
dial of the safe, before plugging the cord into a common wall outlet for a
brief second. He removed cord and clips, and calmly punched in the pad a
standard set of numbers for opening the safe, should its circuitry ever get
shorted out. With an easy turn of the handle, Randolph swung the door open and
looked inside the normal-sized wall safe.

Just inside the door, sat a jewelry box as
the obvious first item to be extracted. This he moved carefully, sliding the
box to the edge of the safe and leaving it there. Next he took out the pen
light and moved a few feet to his left in order to cut out a piece of the
paneling to slide the box out on, without exposing the bottom. With the booby
trap resting on the paneling, Randolph transported the box out of the way, on
to a book shelf.

Now that he could inspect the rest of the
safe, Randolph heard Jill’s chair creak as if someone stood. When he turned,
lowering his arms, Jill was pulling off her shirt and approaching.