A Murder in Concord

That Night . . .

A powerful and influential man was about to die.

   For over twenty years, Trent Simon Mahoney II held the same pattern of being the last person to leave the Mahoney, Incorporated office building located on Copperfield Boulevard in Concord, North Carolina. He and his father, also named Trent, were the co-owners of Mahoney's Restaurants, and two of the richest men that lived in the state of North Carolina. Trent the younger was one of the most driven, and indefatigable restaurateurs in the business.

   This pattern would ultimately lead to Trent's death.

   His murderer hid behind a row of tall, thick bushes that lined the sidewalk in front of Trent's shiny, new Lexus. The sun had set, leaving a picturesque sunset behind. Soft phosphorescent lighting bathed the parking lot from elegant streetlamps reminiscent of the streetlamps on old cobblestoned streets. The lamps decorated the sidewalk and parking lot of this otherwise thoroughly modern structure.

   The night was dry and sticky, as it had been for the past several months. The entire southeast was in the midst of a hard drought.

   Trent was the last person to leave the building on this day. An hour had passed since the previous person left.

   The murderer waited patiently that entire time. He had an excellent view of Trent leaving the building and locking up. The killer remained hidden.

   Mahoney, Incorporated was the holding company one of the largest restaurant chains in America, but did not have security to watch the building during the night hours. This was part of the family's belief of keeping the base of operations simple and small. However, there was a state-of-the-art security system installed that the Mahoney family thought eliminated the need for anyone to have to watch the building in during the night hours.

   The killer knew this.

   From the killer's vantage point, Trent looked tired and beaten as he walked the short distance to the primo CEO parking space located at the front of the building. The killer thought Trent looked disappointed.

   The killer knew why Trent had that look on his face.

   The killer did not have to fear any random cars coming into the parking lot, nor anyone driving by on Copperfield Boulevard to see the deed that was about to be committed. The building was set behind an automatic locking iron gate where a person could only get in by inputting a security password. The three-story glassed structure was set off the road, behind a line of tall oak trees, obscuring any view of the parking lot from the road.

   The killer knew this, and had planned upon it.

   Trent looked around, as though searching for something or someone. He looked hopeful. The killer knew for whom Trent was searching.

   When Trent pushed the button on his key chain to unlock his silver car, the parking lights flashed, the security alarm chirped, and the killer took that as good a time as any . . .