Chapter 2

Smirking spent the next week assessing his targets. He spent all day in front of his targets' apartment building. It was a seedy dump with paint peeling from the sides of the exterior. It has a sign stating, Imperial Apartments, Now Renting.

Smirking noted the time Randall Malloy left each evening and the time of his return in the early morning. He worked a swing shift and was gone each evening between 6 P.M. and 6 A. M. He always waited at the bus stop with his brown bag lunch and read the sports section of the daily paper. He always threw the unread sections of the paper into the trash as he boarded the bus to his place of employment eight miles away.

Each morning he arrived on the bus and stopped at the twenty-four hour liquor store half a block from his home where he bought a pint of cheap vodka. He always sat on the steps in front of his apartment building and drank half the bottle before going in. He would always stand, shrug his shoulders, and sigh heavily. He would stare out at the street, slowly shake his head, turn and walk inside. Anyone could tell he was steeling himself to face his home and family.

At 10:30 A.M., Mrs. Malloy would leave for work in a long coat covering up her Shooters waitress uniform. Shooters, a local watering hole and restaurant, was themed sort of along the line of a national chain with a similar name. The biggest difference was the waitresses at Shooters were all considerably older than those found at the famous national chain. They wore similar hot pants to the national chain, but only with a white bra that appeared one or more sizes too small. Actually Susan Malloy looked damned hot in her waitress attire. She had legs that went all the way up.

She would work until 6 each evening. Every other day she stopped by the same liquor store for her supply of peppermint schnapps. She looked tired, but she still looked pretty hot in those short shorts.

So the lovebirds only managed to be together for four and a half hours a day. Smirking thought. That leaves nineteen and a half for my revenge!

Smirking went inside the apartment building each day during this time they were together and heard loud arguments coming from behind their apartment door. On two occasions about 8 A.M., good old Randall would come storming out of the apartment with the stepson in tow. Randall's face would be almost scarlet in color and he would have the stepson by his arm almost dragging him down the hallway. The stepson's expression was always one of disgust and loathing.

Apparently the stepson thinks Mr. Anonymous Malloy is as big an asshole as I do. The Smirking Lurker laughed quietly to himself as he watched them battle their way to the street.