The Dilemma of a Thief

Lumpy, cramped, a McDonald’s bag with what smells like an old big mac as a pillow, waiting for a cheating wife by the name of Cassie Kusner to come back to her car and drive us to her maximum security prison of a house for almost… two hours now. At least I don’t have to worry about falling asleep in here, Jayden thought, as he slowly adjusts himself somewhat comfortably within the back seat of a Nissan Murano. 2:13 a.m., his watch reads. Jobs like this usually take forever. Some bastard or bitch with a fake face takes something “very valuable” from someone they know and when the snakes slither through the cracks they hire a thief to take it back for them.

Loud footsteps approach the car, a woman’s voice, audibly whining and complaining. The door opens. “Ugh, did I leave the door unlocked again?” she scoffs. The car bounces as she drops herself on the seat, the ignition turns on, then the car drives with the occasional quick zig-zag from time to time. Don’t crash, you drunk play-doh. A bumpy and cramped twenty or so minutes later, the car stops. The driver-side window rolls down then beep-beep-beep-beep. Open Sesame. The front gate opens. Cassie drives into the garage, fumbling out of the car, dropping her keys, and picking them up again routinely before she enters the house. Finally, the fun begins!

Jayden’s flashlight flickers on as he opens the back passenger side door, dressed in all black jeans, running shoes, and a shirt, he steps out and sneaks to the door leading into the house. His ear kisses it; no sounds from the other side, It’s unlocked; and now it’s open. With the house lights off, Jayden shines his flashlight down the hallways. The mansion is big and wide with minor furniture, which makes it easier to navigate but will be more difficult to hide should he have to. The door leading to the garage is in between the kitchen and the living room. With that, Jayden makes his way into the living room, which leads to the upstairs bedrooms, the fitness room, and the office. 2:45 a.m., low on time equals little time to search and scavenge. Might miss something with a dollar sign on it but the ring is the target. Luckily the client, Mr. Kusner, gave Jayden a blueprint of the house, something he could barely read and needed Queen’s help on more than one occasion, but it still helps, nonetheless, but Kusner also said he didn’t know where the damn ring would be. Guess the office is a good start.

The office is a cluttered mess of a room. Rummaged with old boxes and thousands of papers. It’ll take all night to search through it all, so all is not an option. Jayden goes through the desk drawers and the cabinets while keeping an eye open for any secret compartments, and with luck and skill, Jayden did find such a secret. Another compartment under a cabinet drawer. No ring, unfortunately, but a very shiny necklace with a pretty pattern of several emeralds and amethysts, and a flask with some hard liquor in it. This will lead to a pretty penny. Jayden pockets the necklace and flask in his backpack then glides his way upstairs. Ahead is a hallway with several doors. The nearest one to the left should be the son’s room, Orien. Jayden’s ear kisses the door, nothing, he slides it open; a bedroom littered with rancid sports clothes and soda. Yup, Definitely Cassie’s teenage son. Jayden’s flashlight glares at a lava lamp hanging a lacrosse stick. Good night light, that’s a snatch! He raises the bed a nudge, only some weed to be found with… ecstasy! Jayden never cared for drug dealing but dealers usually pay a small sum for anything you don’t want. He pockets the drugs. That’s enough here before I get nauseated. Jayden looks over the rest of the hallway, only finding pocket change here and there but nothing worthwhile to sell. Time for the master bedroom. Cassie’s passed out on the bed with her work clothes still on, bottles and pills surrounding her. Ah, tequila and molly, the perfect sleepy time tea. Some jewelry and rings inside the nightstand drawer but not THE ring. Good to sell, at least. Under the bed; shoes, dirty clothes, makeup, and more stale food. Jesus Christ, buy a trash can! Next, the closet; a safe! The client provided the code to the dial, in case the ring was in here. With it, Jayden types it in and… nothing. He tries again… nothing. Well shit, Cassie must’ve changed the code. Jayden mumbles a scoff. Oh fuck it, I’ll just take it with me.

Jayden drags the safe out of the closet with a great strain not to wake miss play-doh or pull a muscle. It’s heavier than the ego on my stepdad! This isn’t gonna work. He bends his legs sturdy and lifts the safe. Fucking stubborn too! Jayden takes each step as if it’s the first time in his life, with frequent breaks in between the hallway. His mask is soaked in sweat once he reaches the stairs. Step by step, he carries it down, but then the front door opens. Jayden forces himself to stop but drops the anchor in the process, tumbling down the stairs like a boulder on bubble wrap. “Holy shit!” the guest jumps. Jayden holds his breath. A wall separating the front door to the stairs provides cover. “Hello!” they call out, the lights flicker on. It must be the son, back from his slumber party too soon for comfort. Orien investigates the safe while Jayden swiftly ambles his way into the nearest door. “What the fuck? Mom! Are you shit-faced again?!” She’s got a shit face, with or without the alcohol, Jayden thought, forcing his breathing through his nostrils. Orien cautiously strides to the top of the stairs. “Whoever’s in here, you better come the fuck out right now!” Orien calls out again, this time with pressure in his voice. I guess our little oreo couldn’t get with any girls so he had to come home and play with his mom. Orien reaches the top of the stairs, eyes focused on his open bedroom door. He grabs his phone from his pocket and dials. A phone rings in the master bedroom. “Mom!” he calls out once more then curses when there is no answer. “MOM!” Orien shouts as he tip-toes closer. He dials again, “9-1-1-.” Jayden leaps from the shadows of the room and thrusts the lacrosse stick in between Orien’s legs and trips him as he attempts to run. Jayden strikes below his femur as he tries to crawl, Orien cries in pain, and Jayden strikes behind his upper neck, knocking him out cold.

Jayden grabs the phone, “Hello. Sir, are you alright?”

Jayden removes the lower half of his mask, “I’m so sorry, false alarm. We just pulled a prank on our friend. Nothing to worry about,” he answers with an impish tone.

“Sir, please put your friend back on the line so we know everything’s ok.”

“Uum, unfortunately, we pranked him so good he passed out. In fact, he’s not waking up! You should send an ambulance. We’re behind the elementary school, on the playground. Send help!” He hangs up the call and removes the battery, along with the sim card, and pockets it. He searches Orien’s pockets and takes the money from his wallet and more weed. Time to get the safe and get outta here, at least I don’t have to worry about carrying the fat thing downstairs. He grabs the safe and carries it back to Cassie’s car. 4:18 a.m., his watch reads. When those two wake up, they’re gonna be unreasonably pissed. Gotta act fast. Jayden rushes back inside to pour liquor from the flask all over Orien’s face, leaving the flask in his hand, then leaves the lacrosse stick beside Cassie. Whether they do or don’t call the cops, this’ll give them a good scare. Back in the car, Jayden drives away and calls Queen.

“Yeeellow,” Queen answers.

“I got the gift but it’s locked in a safe.”

“Type?”

“Honeywell, dial, about one point two or three cubic feet.”

“Shiit bro, when are gonna get me a challenge? Bring her to Charlie’s and I’ll open her up for ya.”

“I gotta drop something off at Charlie’s, anyway.”

“You the pocket?”

“I’m the pocket.”

“I’ll let ’em know. I’ll meet you there.”

“Thanks, Queen.”

“I better see a whopper when I see you!”

Jayden hangs up. Joking around while on the job always made him uncomfortable, more so than trespassing. Given the line of work, this one wasn’t as intense. He did prefer to not have had any contact with anyone but everything can't be predictable. Sometimes one has to improvise, but it’s always a job well done when there are no surprises. Sometime later and several miles away from the Kusner house, Jayden drives up to the auto shop, the garage door opens before he could park. Charles ’n Son’s Auto and Repair, an old but well-kept shop. The owner has a passion for cars like a kleptomaniac for theft. He’ll buy a piece of junk and turn it into a piece of art, and if one has something to sell that doesn’t particularly belong to them, he’ll buy it regardless, insurance fees included.

“What have we here, kid?” Charlie asks as he closes the garage door.

“A Nissan Murano, pretty on the outside, fucking foul on the inside.”

“Oh, what fuck-wads’ been neglectin’ this beauty?” he asks with a thick tone as he inspects the car.

“You don’t gotta worry about that. I taught ’em a good enough lesson.”

“Fuckin’ better! Why anyone would pay thousands of dollars on somethin’ and not take care of it is beyond me. I’ll make sure this poor thing finds a good home.”

“Just make sure you replace the plates and give her a make-over first,” Jayden smirks.

“Why you insultin’ me, boy?”

“Just making sure you still got your memory, old man. I need the safe that’s in the passenger side, though.”

“What the fuck is this disgustin’ shit doin’ in this car!” Charlie barks from the back seat, chicken McNuggets flying behind him. Jayden laughs. Banging echoes through the shop from the entrance door. “Who the fuck’s that?”

“Should be Queen. I got it.”

“BOO!” Queen jumps in front of the entrance window.

“Fuck!” Jayden screams. “You motherfucker!”

“How are you two doing tonight?” Queen laughs as Jayden catches his breath. He opens the door, slamming Queen’s head in the process. “Ow! Shit, bro, you hit my metal!” Queen whines as he caresses his eyebrow piercing.

“The hell is wrong with you?”

’’Man, shut the fuck up. It was funny and you know it.”

“I was but…” Jayden shrugs then laughs.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mon, let’s check this box.” Queen grabs his little duffle bag of tools lying outside the door, and raspberries as he looks down at the safe. “Man, I really gotta teach you how to crack these things. Waste my time with these baby boxes.” He gets to work.

“Just do your magic. We still on at eight?” Jayden peeks his head outside, keeping an eye on the roads and the alleys.

“Yep, and after that, we got another guy wanting something. I told him you’d meet at the same spot at nine. He sounded like one of those businessmen types of bitches, though. Also said he’d pay a lot. Hey Charlie, will you calm down back there? I’m trying to work!”

“And I’m trying to save this poor thing now shut the fuck up and mind your business, boy!” Queen staggers, refocusing on the task at hand with wide, fearful eyes.

“You thinking setup?”

“Fuck if I know, I know you will, though. Done.” A creaking safe opens.

“Already?”

“Told you, bro, baby-boxes.” Files, bonds, jewelry, and the main prize, a pure diamond ring surrounded by other miniature diamonds with the engravings ‘Forever Yours, GF.’ Queen whistles. “That looks very pricy.”

“Family heirloom. Client said his grandfather gave it to his grandmother, passed it down to him, then apparently gave it to the wrong woman.”

“Shmuck.”

“Hmm,” Jayden murmurs, the thought of him passing down something so sentimental to a child of his own crossing his mind. If only such a thing existed. “Alright, help me get rid of this thing then let’s go get paid.”

“Yokay.” The pair pocket the jewelry then dispose of the safe and its contents a few miles away from the shop, then they drive to the spot in Queen’s coupe.

Parked three blocks away. Not too far to run to should something go haywire. 7:31 a.m. With a change of clothes, Jayden walks into Lyla’s Diner while Queen stays in the car. The diner is fairly busy at this time. Good for not being noticed while conducting business. “Hey Malcolm, how are things?” he greets the clerk, merrily.

“Hey Jayden, not too bad. We’re almost full today. So, business is good,” he says, cheerily.

“That’s good to hear. Is Jenny keeping you straight?

Malcolm takes a deep breath out. “Yeah…” He nods.

Jayden smiles and pats his arm. “Hey, Queen said he lost one of his rings yesterday. Wanted me to see if you found it.”

“No, I ain’t seen anything.”

“Huh. Do you mind if I check the booth he was sitting in? Maybe it got stuck in between the seats.”

“Sure, go on ahead. He was sitting at your guys’s usual spot.”

“Thanks, Malcolm, you’re the man.”

The booth is beside the window near the entrance. Jayden crouches beneath the table for several moments before he stands and opens the seat compartment that hides extra glasses. “Found it,” he calls out. Leaving the diner, he crosses the street to the coffee shop next door, ordering his usual caramel mocha then takes his usual seat by the wall, facing the window with a clear view of the diner. 8:09 a.m., the client, Mr. Kusner, parks his car outside the pub and walks in, taking a seat at the same booth. He takes an order from Malcolm then scans the area. On a burner phone, Jayden calls the client. Ring-ring. He answers.

“Hello?”

“You just remembered you forgot your wallet,” Jayden says, with a clear tone. “Take off your jacket, fold it, and drop it on the hood of your car, then grab your wallet inside. After that, walk back in, don’t forget to forget you have some bills in your jacket when you drop it.” Jayden hangs up. Kusner, with a look of annoyance, removes his navy blue suit jacket and exits the diner, even appearing to inform Malcolm that he forgot something. He drops his jacket on the hood of his car then sits inside. Jayden observes intently, Kusner only looking about his surroundings. Kusner returns to his booth with a quick pace. A thumbs up text from Queen greets Jayden’s phone, we got paid. He redials Kusner’s number.

“Yes?” He blurts.

“There’s something under your table.” Jayden hangs up again. Kusner investigates and finds his ring taped under the table. Visibly relieved, he waits for his drink, takes a sip, then leaves, finding his jacket to be missing. He flails his arms in frustration but drives off. Jayden dumps the burner in the trash after he removes the battery and sim card. Now, to enjoy a good sixteen-ounce cup of coffee and wait for the next guy.

8:50 a.m. A man with a beige suit jacket and black khakis strides into the coffee shop. Middle-aged, yet babyfaced. He orders a cup of coffee, turns around, and walks straight to Jayden.

“You must be the raccoon,” he says smoothly, with a devious smile.

“You must be the wind.” The man grins as he takes a seat across from Jayden and offers his hand.

“Isaac Fold.” Jayden glances at his hand then back to his predator-like eyes. He takes his hand lightly with a steady pace.

“Nobody,” Jayden smirks. What is this, the beginning of a horror movie?

“I wasn’t expecting a man of your stature to be so short.”

“Yeah, being five-six helps me fit through vents.” Isaac lets out a light laugh.

“A man of your stature is definitely what we need for a job like this.”

“And… what is a ‘job like this?’” Jayden leans forward.

“A job with ten thousand dollars at the end for a job well done.” Butterflies begin to fly in Jayden’s stomach. He scratches his chin and leans back in his chair.

“This must be something very precious… and dangerous… and stupid.” The barista arrives to bring Isaac his coffee. He thanks her gleefully as he takes a sip.

“I admit, what I want is something you’ve never taken before but I’m confident you’re the man for the job.”

“So much confidence for an amateur like me.”

“I don’t believe you’re an amateur, Mr. Racoon.”

Jayden releases a deep breath. “You gonna leave me in suspense or are you gonna tell me what you want?”

“I want you to take someone.”

Frost travels down Jayden’s spine. His hands wipe on his pants as they become drenched in sweat. “I don’t do human trafficking.”

“The man I want you to take stole something very valuable to me, something irreplaceable. I can provide you with his address, his daily routines, everything. It’s really an easy job. A job that pays ten grand.”

Jayden briefly shuts his eyes as a sudden realization takes over his mind. “Why do I get the feeling this is a ‘do what I say or I kill you and your entire family’ kind of deal?” He says after swallowing his throat.

“Of course not. This is merely an offer. If you don’t like it you can simply decline. No hard feelings or repercussions.”

“Why me? You look like someone who can hire an army of mercenaries or assassins to take care of this.”

“Mercenaries are loud, we prefer to keep things quiet, and we’d like him alive. Plus, you have a reputation for being reliable, and for being smart.”

“Hmm. Tsk, tsk, tsk, this guy didn’t steal anything from you, did he? You’re just an errand boy. You want me because I’m easier to discard.”

Isaac’s smile widens. “See? You’re no amateur.” Any butterflies Jayden had have now been killed. “If you pull this off flawlessly, which I believe you are more than capable of, I see a bright future for you.”

Bright. As in a very bright white light at the end of a tunnel.

“Here’s my number,” Isaac grabs a card from his jacket pocket, “We’ll give you twenty-four hours to think about it. If we don’t hear from you, again, no hard feelings or repercussions. We’ll just find someone else.” He leaves the card under his coffee along with a hundred-dollar bill, then strolls out of the shop.

What the fuck just happened?

Thank you for finishing the first chapter of my short story. If you couldn't tell already, I'm a pretty new writer and I would love your feedback. Don't be shy to leave a comment and tell me what you think. I want to know if the characters feel authentic to you. How was the pacing and overall atmosphere? And anything else you deem necessary to inform. I will update any errors or concerns as time passes if I believe the topic needs updating. I know I have some spelling issues so unless it's immersion-breaking don't comment on it. I would love your constructive criticism and thank you again for reading.