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The night of January 3 rd 1:15 A.M.

“You don’t have to do this, Robbie,” Blake told his son.

It was a cold, dark, moonless night. The two of them were parked on the street a block north of where Priscilla was sound asleep. The air temperature outside, real winter in Minnesota, was plus eight degrees. Fortunately, it was a calm night. No wind at all.

“Yes, I do, Dad,” Robbie replied. “I can’t go on any longer like this. If we’re caught, well, then okay. But if I don’t do this, I know I’ll finish the job I tried on myself.”

“God, I’m so sorry. I should have been…”

“Stop it. We’ve been through that a dozen times. I forgive you. I know what she’s like. She’ll push and push until she gets what she wants. Look at her father. She did it to him. If he had stood up to her, we wouldn’t be sitting here tonight.

“Just take care of the burglary. We’ll even go in through the side door. You know how she sleeps. She won’t wake up.”

They walked along a residential street. Not a single light was on in any house they walked past. Just to be sure, they both wore heavy winter parkas with the hoods pulled up and their faces covered with scarves.

Blake used a pry bar with two sharp tongs on both ends. It worked so well and so quick that Robbie barely heard it. Blake, knowing exactly what to take, moved around the first floor collecting the items.

While he did this, Robbie silently went up the stairs. She knew the house and stairway so well she was able to avoid the ones that creaked and made noise. Inside Priscilla’s bedroom there was just enough ambient light from the street coming through a window for Robbie to see her. Priscilla was on her back, her mouth open and quietly snoring.

Her bed was directly in front of the door. She was on the right hand side, the side closer to Robbie. While standing above her, Robbie remembered wondering if he got this far, could he really do it?

Looking down at Priscilla, remembering what she had done, Robbie could feel the blood flooding her ears, making them hot with anger and hatred. In that moment Robbie realized not only could she do it, she would enjoy doing it.

Robbie reached across her to the second pillow. She sat down on the edge of the bed, almost touching her. While holding the pillow in her lap. She stared at Priscilla for several seconds, deciding whether to wake her or just do it. Reaching a decision, she patted Priscilla’s cheek three or four times until she opened her eyes.

“Robbie?” Priscilla groggily asked.

“Hello, Mother.”

“What are you doing? What do you want?”

“I just wanted to wake you so I could say goodbye. So you would know what is happening to you,” Robbie replied.

“What are you talking …”

The rest of what Priscilla wanted to say was muffled and incoherent. Priscilla struggled and even tried to scratch Robbie but she was still wearing the heavy parka. Priscilla scratched at Robbie’s arms but the slick nylon did not stick under her nails.

Robbie watched the LED lit alarm clock next to the bed. Five minutes went by. Priscilla had stopped squirming after two and was completely still after three. Robbie gave it three more, eight minutes total just to be sure.

Robbie stood up, dropped the pillow on the floor and almost spat in her mother’s face. Knowing that spitting on her would leave DNA, Robbie went to her dresser instead.

Priscilla’s jewelry box was there. Even with what little light she had, Robbie found which pieces to take. Still wearing surgical gloves, she removed the pieces Blake told her to get.

Blake was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. “Everything all right?” he asked Robbie.

“Yes, she’s gone.”

“You okay?”

“Not completely, but we’ll get there. Just remember, I get Dr. Frankenstein.”

“Find Jimmy Smith for me. I’ll take him, the school nurse and the surgeon,” Blake said.

June 2 nd

Marc’s desk phone buzzed. He knew what it was for but answered it anyway.

“They’re here,” Ryan told him.

“Be right out,” Marc replied.

Without bothering to put on his suit coat, Marc went out into the reception area. Sitting in client chairs were Robbie and Blake Craig. They had called to make an appointment to pay his bill personally.

“Hi,” Marc said. “Robbie, how are you doing?”

“Good, Marc. I’m so grateful to you, I can’t tell you.”

“I did what you paid me for,” Marc said. “Come on in.”

Once inside Marc’s office, Robbie and Blake took the client chairs, Marc behind his desk.

Blake removed a folded, personal check from his wallet and handed it across the desk to Marc.

Marc took it, looked at it, satisfied he said, “Thank you. I appreciate the prompt payment.”

“You deserve it and more.

“I have a question for you,” Blake said. “What about the life insurance money. After I confessed in court, will they want it back?”

“First of all, no one believed you, especially me. As far as the insurance companies go, I doubt they’ll come after you.

“Even if they did and you paid back every penny, because of the acquittal, the insurance would have to pay it to Robbie. At this point, they don’t care.

“As for you two, I suggest you move, far away. Belize is nice. Better yet, the Maldives, an island country in the Indian Ocean. Beautiful beaches, sun and clean water. And, best of all, no extradition treaty with the United States.”

“Why are you saying these things?” Robbie asked.

“Did you think that little charade would fool me? You didn’t fool anyone.

“Don’t worry, I’m bound by attorney client privilege. Even if I called the police and told them, they could not use it against you at all. Double jeopardy.”

Marc stood up; an obvious move intended to end the meeting.

“I meant what I said. Move, far away and tell no one, especially me. I don’t want to know.”

Marc looked at both of them while saying, “And don’t call me again. I won’t represent you.”

“I’m sorry, Marc,” Robbie sadly, sincerely said.

“So am I, Robbie. So am I. Good luck.”

They were gone and Marc was back at his desk, the door open. He was turned around facing the open window behind him. A beautiful spring day with a forecast of rain later.

“Knock, knock,” he heard Maddy say. He spun around to find her and Connie coming in. At Marc’s request, actually he had suggested, Maddy doesn’t take being given orders well, she stayed in Connie’s office while they were here.

Maddy came around the desk, bent down and kissed him.

“Tell me something,” Maddy said moving back to sit down. Connie was lighting up a heater by her personal window smoking section. “When did you know?”

“When Tony found the jewelry those kids hocked over in St. Paul. Three black teenagers did not rob a house in Minneapolis, murder the sleeping owner then hock part of the take to a pawn shop in St. Paul.”

“Tony and I talked about the same thing,” Maddy said.

“You did a great job for him,” Connie said.

“Then why do I fee l so shitty?” Marc asked.

“Because there are no winners here,” Connie replied.