Bittersweet

Chapter Three

He liked waking up early from time to time, but he despised when it had to do with working with Richie. The sun wouldn't be coming up for the next hour, and there he sat next to his brother in the cold air-conditioned car that carried a lingering stench of grilled peppers.

They were watching a small house at the beginning of a cul-de-sac so it was easy for them to stay hidden by the trees.

He glimpsed at his watch and saw the time read four-o-two with the temperature sitting at twenty-nine degrees. It was the beginning of May so the bank needed everyone on top of their game for the anticipated loan request increase, but instead of getting his rest, he was partaking in illegal activity.

"He's going." Richie announced, bringing Caleb's attention to the front of the car where they saw the bone-thin man jogging out of his house in shorts and a tight long-sleeved shirt.

Thank God. Caleb thought to himself. They had been in the car for almost fifty minutes and time seemed to be going slower as the minutes went on. The sooner he could go into the house, the sooner he could get back out and go home. 

He desperately missed his bed.

They waited until the man was out of the cul-de-sac and further down the street to exit the car. Caleb shoved his hand into his coat pocket where the rubber gloves sat bundled up before quickly pulling them on.

As if sensing his brother's urgency for the first time since being in the car, Richie grabbed the thick folder for Isaac Beezle, took out the file, and handed it to Caleb. "This goes in the upstairs master. Dad wants him to find it-"

"So his fingerprints get on it. I remember." Caleb said, cutting Richie off. Not only was he still tired, but he was starving, and being in the car of a guy who adored quick, trashy burgers did nothing to help.

"I get that, but we both know how particular he is. I was just making sure you knew." 

They were both aware that Caleb didn't care. He was disgusted with the manipulation and corruption that his dad/employer decided was the best means for success. 

Caleb flipped up his hood with the folder tucked under his arm, crossed the street, and hurried over to the side of the house where the man from the "electric company" had left a bathroom window cracked.

He pushed up the loose frame and jumped up to pull himself through and into the house. A scent comparable to moth balls overwhelmed his senses as he stood and pushed the window down to the position it had been before.

Opening the door, he internally thanked Isaac for having such thin curtains, because without them, he would have no choice but to take the risk of turning on a light.

The stairs were down the hall according to Richie, so when he found them he hurried to the second floor where the first room he saw had the door left wide open.

There were only three doors, and he knew one of them was a bathroom. He had every right to assume the one in front of him was Isaac's, but if it wasn't he knew he would hear from his father.

Caleb had been reckless in the past few months when doing Reed's jobs. He'd enjoyed it as a teenager until his second run when he realized that lives were crumbling because of the man who raised him, and it was disgusting. Some targets deserved to be caught up in the things they attempted to get away with, but some of them didn't. A lot of them didn't.

Isaac wasn't one of them, though. He was a district attorney just like Reed had been, but he introduced fraud and laundering into a circle of judicial officers and chairwomen. Caleb and Richie were certain that Isacc and Reed had never crossed paths, but the people in Reed's circle likely had.