Acts of Nature - By Jonathon King Page 0,7
westward from the open Atlantic through the southern Caribbean. It was expected to strengthen to hurricane status within the next twenty-four hours and continue on a path vaguely in the direction of the Yucatan, but as a longtime resident of Miami, Harmon knew you couldn’t predict these bastards. A hurricane had an eye, but you could not read it, and it never showed reluctance or hesitation. And unlike most human dangers, Harmon was scared as hell of it.
THREE
The kid still had his eyes closed when the collar of his shirt yanked back, the first button pulled up into his throat until it popped and went skittering onto the girl’s dresser top.
“Dream about the panties on your own time, son. I brought you up here to steal stuff, not sniff it,” Buck said, releasing the fistful of collar and then lightly backhanding the boy’s head.
“OK, OK, man. Jeez, chill,” Wayne said, tucking his head down into his shoulders. When he turned, Buck was already focused on the jewelry box on the pink and white dressing table. He flipped open the top and while Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” plinked away, he pawed through the necklaces and earrings. “Junk,” he snorted and then started toward the bedroom door.
“If you’re not going to do me any good in here, Wayne, next time you stay outside with Marcus,” Buck said and then stopped to toss the big-handled screwdriver at the kid. “Now go downstairs and check the guy’s study. And if the desk drawers are locked, pry ’em open. That’s where the good shit will be.”
“Yeah, all right,” Wayne said, turning his back and straightening his shirt. But Buck stood and watched him for one more second, saw him take the teenager’s panties and stuff them into his jeans pocket. He shook his head and wondered again why he ever thought of using these kids on these burglary gigs. The fact that they would do almost anything you asked without hesitation was their only redeeming value. That plus he needed someone to help do the heavy lifting. But one day they were going to put him in the weeds, he thought as he moved down the hall toward the master suite. Then there’d be no more Miami-Dade Correctional Center for him. He’d be riding straight up to Raiford Prison. He looked at his watch again. They’d been in the house for twenty minutes already, first stripping the wires on the big plasma television in the living room and loading it into the van. Then the other electronics: CD players, stereo components, the Xbox computer games. You take the heavy stuff first in this kind of work. Buck had again borrowed a friend’s white van, slapped the magnetic FreezeFrame Air Conditioning Service sign on the side, and come probing for the right house.
The two boys had been useful because they got a charge out of sneaking over the walls of these gated communities and then scurrying around from house to house with the laser intercept Buck had put his hands on. They’d hide in the bushes like they were playing a kid game and soak up the garage-door laser signals of home owners coming in after dark from work. It was another benefit of these far-out suburbs. The commute into Miami took these office workers forever and they rarely got home until after sunset this time of year. They’d hit the button to open their garage and the boys would be right there to record it with the intercept.
Then Buck would return with them a week later and scout the possibilities. If things looked cool he’d simply hit the garage door, back the van in, snap on the surgeon’s gloves, and in broad daylight they’d clean the place out. When they had what they wanted, they’d just open the door and drive away. In the past he’d left the two boys outside as lookouts, giving them a Nextel so they could beep him if anyone approached or things got hinky outside. This was the first time he’d given Wayne a shot at working the inside and he’d done it mainly so they could load the big stuff that he couldn’t hoist alone.
While Wayne went back downstairs, Buck did the master suite. He’d lied. The best stuff was always in the bedroom. He went to the walk-in closet first, the boxes up high and then behind all the hanging stuff, looking for a wall safe. You never knew, especially in these new suburban places. Folks had jewelry