The Bright Spot

Part One

"So is he dead...or?" Garrett stood over the man bleeding out on the floor.

He tried to relax his grip on his Smith & Wesson as he looked over at his partner, but she could still see the slight tremor of his arm.

"He's still breathing, you idiot. I told you what to do before you put that gun in your hand." Dev rolled her eyes, trying not to let her impatience get the best of her.

"Head shots really aren't my thing."

"It should be if you want to get paid. Now look at him, he's gurgling. You don't want to leave a target gurgling. You want to leave them dead. That's the whole point of what we do here, Garrett. Move."

Dev pushed him aside, raised her gun, and planted one bullet in the center of the man's forehead. Her silencer muffled the shot. The man's brain matter hit the wall behind him, turning the yellow wallpaper into a Jackson Pollock masterpiece.

The two stood silently in the moldy, dank smelling basement of their target's three-floor home. From the corner of her eye, Dev could see Garrett fiddling with his handlebar mustache, a giveaway of his anxiety. She looked back at the man, observing his pale, bloodied face. His name was Bradley Schaffer: husband, bank manager, jazz enthusiast, and down low pedophile. Satisfied, Dev placed her gun in its holder.

"Next time you feel like you're gonna fuck up, don't."

"Easier said than done." Garrett stepped away from Schaffer's body and plopped himself on the man's worn leather couch. "I'm still learning," he said quietly.

"Then you've got to learn quicker. We've been at this for months and you can't even shoot right. What are you gonna do when I'm not here?"

Garrett considered this for a moment, stealing a quick glance at the gun still in his hand.

Dev watched him think, hoping that he was in the process of formulating a substantial response.

"It's just...gross. The brains, I mean," he said finally.

Dev began to pace, forcing herself to realize that after tonight, Garrett would no longer be her problem. Tonight was her last few hours on the job before she would be able to lead a boringly normal life, something she'd been craving most these days.

In the last seven years she spent being employed under Edward Laslo, Dev had always worked alone. That was until she decided to quit in pursuit of a Bachelor's degree at the age of twenty-seven. She couldn't exactly be a college student and work late nights, especially not when she would have essays to complete and books to read.

Needless to say, Edward Laslo, being the everlastingly practical boss he was, congratulated Dev on her decision and promptly "suggested" that she take the new replacement under her wing: Garrett Melendez. He was older than her by three years, and grossly inexperienced. Dev couldn't figure out for the life of her how he had landed her job, but chalked it up to nepotism -- they were related somehow. She sighed. None of that mattered now.

"We don't have time for sitting. Call Laslo and tell him we finished. Ask him if he wants us to call it quits for the night or move on to the next person on the list."

"On it." Garrett placed his gun in his holder, turned to the side, and wriggled his cell phone out of his left pocket.

Dev didn't want to be in the Schaffer's crappy basement when the wife discovered her husband's brains on the wall. Mrs. Schaffer's pottery class had ended five minutes ago and she would be home in twenty. Dev had seen the woman a few times before when she and Garrett spent the previous week watching the house. Judy Schaffer was a pale, small woman with short wispy hair. She was a third-grade teacher who seemed visibly happy and extremely oblivious to her husband's late night proclivities. While she would watch her shows upstairs, he would be browsing and sharing child pornography, oftentimes sharing experiences with others about how to make their fantasies a reality.

Dev could envision Judy now, turning on the foyer light like she normally did and setting her purse and keys on the kitchen table. She'd turn on the teakettle, call out for Bradley, wait, then call out again when she was met with silence. Curious, she'd first walk to the base of the steps leading to the second floor. She would think it was odd that all of the lights on the third floor were out, after all, he was home. His car was in the driveway.

She would stand at the base of the steps for two seconds, then turn to face the basement door. It was usually closed when Bradley was down there, and she would see the lights peeking out from under the door. Now, suspicious, she would slowly pad down the basement steps, most likely thinking about what she would make for dinner. Finally, at the landing, she'd discover his body near his desk, and scream out in sheer terror. Later, minutes, hours, or days later, she would ask: "Who would do such a thing?"

Dev smiled.

Bradley Schaffer was dead, but everyone would know who he was and what he did. Dev had a neatly printed pile of Bradley's various forum posts from over five websites. All 3,214 of them. It wasn't enough for him to be dead. He had to be seen for who he truly was. Dev glanced at his fat, bloody body, and looked into his glassy brown eyes. She almost felt bad for the wife. Almost. Dev tried not to pity someone who couldn't see what was happening in her own home.

At least his victims would have justice.

"Wha-I can't really hear you, Laslo, the service-" Garrett slowly pushed himself up and off of the Schaffer's couch. "Ok, then, sounds good." Garrett ended the call and placed his phone back in his pocket.

Dev turned away from Bradley. "What'd he say?"

"Not entirely sure for the most part, but we're not going home anytime soon. Aria Jacobs is up next instead of Stephen Cole. Said he'd send more info later."

Dev's brows furrowed. "He say why?"

"Stephen did our job for us, apparently."

"Okay, so what now? Did he say where we're headed?"

"A place called Reed's."

"Are you sure that's what he said?"

Garrett nodded. "Pretty sure."

"But you just said-"

"I admit, the service down here is spotty at best, but I bet my life that that's exactly what he said."

Dev surveyed the basement, making sure that nothing was out of place except for the dead body, all the while chewing over Garrett's words. She checked her watch. Judy would be home in eighteen minutes. "To Reed's it is. Let's go"

Dev took the stairs three at a time with Garrett trailing closely behind her like a duckling pit-patting after its mother. He closed the basement door behind him on his way out, and the two slipped through the front door.