Chapter 1

The shovel struck him in the back of the head with a sickening crunch. His body crumpled to the floor. Connor swung again. Another crunch. His hands and arms numb from the reverberation. Blood splatter hot on his face. He swung again. And again. Breath heavy and ragged he dropped the shovel. Nausea overwhelmed him and he vomited. The ham sandwich and Coke he had for lunch a mess on the concrete floor. He staggered back wiping his mouth. Johan Van Wieren now lifeless, lay in a bloody puddle in the doorway of the empty pole barn.

Connor stepped out of the empty building and into the afternoon sun. The leaves on the trees had just started to change. Summer was coming to an end. He watched the clouds drift past, the hum of an aircraft somewhere overhead. He took a deep breath; the long grass in the overgrown field next to the barn swayed in the gentle breeze. A deer path just visible parting the sea of green and yellow. Johan’s body visible in the doorway, his dark suit covered in chalky gray dust from the barn’s concrete floor. An old disused access road ran along the barn and into the woods behind. It was overgrown with grass and weeds but still there.

Not enough. He thought. He had been saving money so he and Linda could run away. She loved Cancun. But he needed more money. She had jewelry, maybe they could pawn some, and he was sure Johan would have money stashed around the house. It was too soon, but he had to make it work now. He could make it work now. He and Linda could be together now.

Connor yanked the tattered green canvas tarp out of the back of his Silverado pickup, a dry dead leaf fluttered to the ground. Connor drug the tarp to the pole barn, and laid it out next to Johan’s body. He rolled Johan onto the tarp, lifeless eyes still open. Connor had to look away, focusing on Johan’s left hand. His gold wedding ring bloody and coated in the gray dust. Connor stared at it. The ring matched Linda’s; minus the glittering diamond in hers. Connor slid the ring from the dead mans hand, wiped it clean with his heather grey t-shirt. He admired the weight, it’s smooth polished surface, he was sure Johan spent a lot of money on it. He searched Johan’s pockets, keys, cell phone, wallet. A couple hundred dollars. He took the cash and the keys. Every little bit helps.

Connor had drug the tarp, body and shovel through the grass field following the deer path until he felt he was in roughly the middle. He knew the field was no longer used, maybe someone would cut the grass once or twice next summer, but by then it wouldn’t matter. He dug a hole big enough to cover Johan’s body, only three or four feet deep. No one would find him. He rolled Johan into the hole, and buried him with the tarp.

He returned to the barn by following the deer path. The shovel clanged onto the bed of his truck when he dropped it over the battered tailgate. Connor studied Johan’s dark green Land Rover SUV. He could take it down the access road, leave it in the woods. That would work. He climbed into the Land Rover’s drivers seat. The leather cool on his back. He looked over the expensive dash, opened and closed the center console, nothing at all like his old beat up Chevy. He checked the mirror, there in the middle of the rear seat sat a black leather bag. Connor reached back and grabbed it. It was too heavy to be clothes. Cautiously he pulled open the thick metal zipper.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Connor plucked a roll of cash out of the bag. A hundred dollar bill clearly visible on the outside. He pulled the rubber band off, flipped through the bills. All hundreds. There were at least two dozen rolls in the bag. Connor laughed. He could make it work now. He and Linda could move to Cancun, make love on the beach, do whatever they want. Things were going to work. He fired up the Land Rover and drove down the access road.

He had forced the luxury four wheel drive vehicle into some thick brush, scratches all down the side. The front wheel went over a rock and the truck could not go any further. Not that it mattered. He happily carried the heavy bag of money back to his truck. The passenger door creaked when he opened it. A half empty bottle of water fell at his feet. There were a few others on the floor of the truck. He gathered the water bottles and returned to the barn. Dumping the near empty bottles onto the blood spot did very little but it would have to do. When the last bottle was empty he tossed them all into the bed of the truck. He would go home, clean up, then tell Linda the good news.

The sun was no longer shining but it wasn’t dark yet. Sunset was coming sooner and sooner now that September was half over. Connor had showered, put on the expensive cologne that Linda had bought him. He threw some clothes into his old gym bag, had put on his new boots. He drove across town, pulled up the gravel drive to Van Wieren’s house. It was new, modern. Johan had it built less than a decade ago, when Connor was still in high school. Perched on a hill there was a clear view of Elkridge Lake out the back. White exterior walls with dark navy blue trim, floor to ceiling windows, sculpted landscape with seasonal flowers. Connor parked next to the new red Mercedes that Johan had bought for Linda. It was long, sleek and expensive. He checked his short, wavy blonde hair; before hopping out of his truck. On his way up the walk he plucked a blue hydrangea from one of the flower beds dotting the winding path. He reached the front step, checked his shirt, pant cuffs over his boots, Johan’s ring in his pocket. He took a deep breath, than rang the doorbell.

“Connor? Why are you here?” She stood in the doorway, her black hair loosely tied back. Her black dress adorned with orange and red flowers reached to the floor. Pale skin visible in the plunging neckline.

“I had to see you right away.” He handed her the freshly picked flower. Her fingers lightly brushed over his as she took the hydrangea.

“You can’t-” He didn’t let her finish. His lips enveloped hers, his hands traced the outline of her lean body. Linda’s hands ran through his hair, their tongues danced. She stepped back drawing him into the foyer. Connor pressed his body into hers, their hips ground together. Linda moaned softly. Her hands slid across his cheeks along his neck, then to his chest. She gently pushed him away and playfully chuckled.

“Connor. You have to go. Johan could be home any minute now.” She smoothed her dress.

“We can be together now.” He took her hands, “Johan is gone, we can be together now. We can leave right now.”

“Don’t be silly Connor. You need to go before Johan gets home.”

He locked eyes with her, those beautiful blue eyes with silver specks, “I love you. Johan is not coming home. We can be together now.”

Her brows furrowed. “What are you talking about Connor? Where is Johan?”

Connor kissed her long elegant fingers, “I took care of him. He can’t stand between us anymore.”

Linda’s eyes grew wide her voice raised, “What did you do Connor?”She’s angry. What did I do wrong? His thoughts raced. He stammered. “I hit him. With my shovel. I hit him with my shovel so we can be together.”

“Connor!” She wrenched her hands free. “Oh my god, Connor.”The bag of money. “It’s okay. He had a bag. It was full of money. We can go anywhere. You loved Cancun, that’s what you told me. We can go to Cancun and live there, together.”

Linda retreated to the living room, Connor followed after her. She reached the large wooden liquor cabinet, pulled open the heavy twin doors and retrieved a bottle of amber colored alcohol. She removed the cap and hastily took a drink from the bottle.

“Linda.” She held up her hand telling him to stop, she took another, shorter drink from the bottle.

“Connor? You killed Johan and stole a bag of money from him?” Her face was stone, her eyes were fire.

“Yes.”

Linda plunked down two whiskey glasses onto the tray in the liquor cabinet. She splashed the amber liquid into both glasses. She handed one to Connor.

“Sit.” She pointed to the white leather sofa adorned with a black throw blanket and two checkered pillows.

Connor slowly sat, his eyes on Linda like a scared animal. She paced about the room in thought. Connor drank the alcohol. Whiskey. But it didn’t burn like the stuff he and his friends used to steal from their parents. Linda sat next to him on the couch.