He had started out with nothing and somehow managed to hold on to some of it. Wasn’t living the dream, instead he was dreaming the life.
Which was feeling pressure. The old man didn’t like to be pressurized. A car where it shouldn’t be.
A stranger little guy in black and green plaid pajamas walking in the old man’s yard.
A Silver Alert victim perhaps. No, that’s the new neighbor. Looks like an escapee from a Scottish insane asylum.
Drive down here from New Jersey or Long Island or Brewster, and park right in front of my house. Is that really necessary?
Built a vegetable garden Martha Stewart would be proud of right up against the old man’s property line. Has to stand in my yard to work half the plot.
Harder to get rid of somebody if they are part of a retired couple. He wanted to kill the husband. That’s what he wanted.
He really, really wanted to do that.
Mustn’t let emotions get in the way. Old age is a white-knuckled descent on its own; no need to give yourself a push. So he asked for help.
The young redhead suggested a better, smarter option. She’s good at that. A better, smarter option is kill the wife and pin the crime on her husband.
The old man was already ahead of her. He was hoping he could adopt their dog. Miss Bella was a sweetie.
Obviously, the bitch had the soul of a saint.
Update! The old man looked out a window to see a security truck parked in front of his house. I might have to put a meter up, he thought. Turns out, somebody – not me! – complained about the neighbor’s trellis and bunny-proof fence. He has to take it all down. The old man had been looking forward to farm fresh vegetables. Another victory for Homeland Security.