There was just enough light in the darkened room for Kendra to notice something was not right. She knew every piece of furniture in the room by memory right down to any marks from the years of ownership any piece may have possessed. She pulled her flashlight from her belt and shined it around the room. Nothing seemed amiss, but she could not shake the knot in her belly that screamed there was. Her right eye squinted slightly as she turned the flashlight off. Just as the light went out, she caught movement. She stepped into the room and put her back to the door. Her heart raced. This was the moment for which she had trained. Tonight, she would catch her first thief.
Kendra closed her eyes, allowing her other senses to take over. Her ears, trained to pick out the smallest sound, kicked in with ultra-sensitive hearing. Soft footfalls crept across the carpet. She turned her neck in the direction of the sound and let her sense of smell take over. Natural body odor was difficult to mask, even though every thief tried. This thief was sweating, the hot, sticky kind produced from a combination of adrenaline and nerves. This thief was no novice yet Kendra detected a hint of hesitation, too. This thief was no pro, either. Satisfaction creased Kendra’s thinking. She refused to let that satisfaction show on her face. Instead, she pulled the door open just enough for her to pass through yet stayed within the darkness. The door closed with a soft swish. The thief let out a soft sigh of relief, just loud enough for Kendra to pinpoint his location. He stood near the grand painting of the homeowner’s wife. Kendra knew within moments, he would pull the painting from the wall. The soft clicks of the combination lock of the safe being turned confirmed her instincts. The thief would have his prize in minutes if he successfully broke the code.
She tiptoed quickly, silently across the room. At the same instant, she heard the safe opened, she wrapped her arms around the thief and wrestled him to the ground.
“Lights!” she said. The overhead security lights came on. A gasp of dismay left her throat as she recognized the soft brown curls. She could not see his face, but she did not need to. She knew his scent by heart. It was her brother. He rolled over as a single tear escaped down her face. It splashed on his black cotton shirt, leaving a wet spot in its wake.
“Damien!” she said, more remorse in her voice than she wanted. “Oh, Damien, why?”
He tried to push her off him, unsuccessfully. His blue eyes looked into her brown ones. “It was all your idea.”
A piece of paper stuck out of his shirt pocket. A small tug pulled the paper free and she recognized the numbers on the slip. She looked at him with disbelief. It had been better when he had been hidden. A slick smile crossed his face.
“Are you really going to let me go to jail?” Damien said. “You’ll go, too. The code to the safe is in your handwriting, after all.”
I gave Steph this prompt: It happened at a Bingo game.
This is also prompted by this week’s Master Class assignment which came from the 4th line of the 144th page of Douglas Adams’ The Long Dark Tea-time of the Soul which was: “It had been better when he had been hidden.” We were to use the line in a 4th position. It is the 48th sentence, and the 4th line of the 7th paragraph.
I always welcome and appreciate honest feedback. Please share your thoughts in a comment.
Thanks for stopping in!