Ben Rehder [Rehder - Shake and Bake

2019 by Ben Rehder.

Cover art and digital design 2019 by Bijou Graphics & Design.

All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

M any thanks to these amazingly helpful and generous people: Tommy Blackwell, Donny Gray, John Strauss, Roger Huth, Martin Grantham, Becky Rehder, Helen Haught Fanick, Mary Summerall, Marsha Moyer, Jo Virgil, Stacia Miller, Linda Biel, Leo Bricker, Kathy Carrasco, Naomi West, and Richie West. Any errors are my own.

1

H e knew the house well , of course. Every room. Every closet. Every piece of furniture. Hed been here dozens of times, going back to when he was a kid.

He knew where the spare key was hidden. Knew there was no alarm system. Knew that if he entered through the back door, he could avoid the security cameras inside the house. And, most important, he knew that nobody was home right now, at nine in the evening.

He put on latex gloves before he picked up the fake rock in the flowerbed to the left of the front door. Carried it with him as he went around the side of the house, through the gate, past the swimming pool, and to the back door. Removed the key and unlocked the deadbolt. Retraced his steps to the front of the house and put the rock back in its spot, with the key inside. Better to do it now rather than later, when hed be in a hurry. He was glad the house sat on three wooded acres, far from the street. Lots of privacy.

He returned to the back door, eased it open, and stepped into the living room. Closed the door behind him. The warm air enveloped him and he realized how cold he was, despite the hoodie he was wearing. Cold not just from the temperature outside, but also from nerves. His hands trembled slightly. He focused on breathing more slowly and deeply. Be cool. Dont panic. This would be a cakewalk. He took a full minute to gather himself.

Okay, good.

He remembered to lock the deadbolt behind him. Chances were slim that Malcolm would come home and notice whether the door was or wasnt lockedhe would have several strong drinks in him at that point and his attention to details like that would be shot to hellbut why risk it?

None of the overhead lights were on, but a small lamp on a credenza burned brightly enough to illuminate the room. The first security camera was on top of the entertainment center, to the right of the back door. It was aimed toward the front of the house, at the arched entrance most people would use to come into this room. The camera wasnt hidden. It was easily recognizable if an intruder spotted it before walking in front of it.

He eased up to the side of the entertainment center and pulled the power cord loose from the back of the camera. No power, no streaming video to the cloud. Exactly what a burglar would do. After a certain amount of time, Mal would receive an alert that the camera was offline, but that happened often enough with these kinds of cameras that he wouldnt think much of it. Mal would probably open the app and check the camera, but he wouldnt see anyone inside his house on the earlier video, so hed think it was just a glitch. Or that the electricity had gone out for a minute or two and the camera hadnt reconnected.

The only other camera was in the den, where the safe was located, so it wasnt a problem. He wouldnt be going in there. Instead, he went down the hallway, into the master bedroom. Another lamp on a nightstand in here provided plenty of light. He went straight to the nightstand and opened the top drawer.

Relief.

The gun was there. A Ruger .357 magnum.

Still wearing gloves, he lifted the revolver and checked the chambers. Fully loaded. Good to go. Hed brought his own guna nine-millimeter semi-automatic in the right-hand pocket of his hoodiebut hed rather use the .357. Would look less premeditated that way. More like an interrupted burglary. The burglar found the Ruger and then was startled by Mal. Perfect. The shot would be loud, but the nearest neighbors were at least one hundred yards away, tucked inside their houses, with windows closed, heaters running, maybe already in bed. They wouldnt hear a thing. Still, though, hed limit it to one shot, if he could. And get rid of the gun later.

He tucked the Ruger into the left-hand pocket of his hoodie. Heavy. It barely fit. Then he grabbed a pillow and pulled the pillowcase loose. Hed seen a burglar do that in a movie. Smart. Why bring a bag when there was already one waiting in the house?

He began rooting around inside the nightstand drawer. Found a wristwatch. Decent brand, worth maybe a grand. Into the pillowcase. Took a box of bullets for the Ruger, several gold necklaces, some gold bracelets, and four mens rings, two with diamonds in them. Had to be worth a shitload if the diamonds were any good. Mal liked jewelry and he bought quality stuff. All of it went into the pillowcase. Next he found a Fitbit, but he was pretty sure those devices had GPS built in, so he left it.

He crossed to the dresser and began going through the drawers, starting from the bottom. Another trick he saw in a movie. If you started with the top drawers, youd have to shove all of them back in before going to the next drawer down. But if you started at the bottom, you could leave the drawers out. Would make the cops think hed done this before. He didnt find anything good in any of these drawers. Just clothes. Didnt matter. Hed done enough to create the appearance he wanted.

Now he went into the kitchen. The sink and the fridge and the stove and the walk-in pantry were to the right. To the left was a breakfast nook, with a square table and four chairs, plus a door that led into the garage. Malcolm would enter through that door and probably go straight to the refrigerator for a cold beer. Perfect.

He went to the pantry, which had an accordion-fold door with horizontal slats. He opened it and stepped inside. Plenty of room in here, sure, but it wasnt realistic that he could wait in here, standing, for an hour or two.

He stepped into the kitchen again. Went to the table. Pulled out a chair. Hed just sit right here until he heard the garage door opening. He put the pillowcase on top of the table, along with the Ruger. He kept his own pistol in his right-hand hoodie pocket.