The Watcher by Akil Victor Page A

that brought out the color in her eyes, along with crème tone slacks over black suede Steve Madden heels. She looked great but only half acknowledged the fact due to the thoughts swirling around in her head. 'I can’t wait until the day we shower together.' Is what the notecard attached to the rose said. It gave her chills knowing that someone had illegally entered her home and stood that close t her without her being aware. She went from peering at her reflection to scanning her background in the mirror as an uneasy feeling crept over her.
    The house was empty. That much she knew. She checked. Having a secret admirer was one thing, but the type of attention she received: 40 dozen roses, 23 teddy bears, and 13 boxes of chocolates spread throughout he small living room was ridiculous. Expensive chocolates at that, Godiva pecan clusters, caramel chews, and coated cherries.
    Retrieving her phone from the nightstand, she headed out the door, double checking the lock as she went along.
     
     
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    The hissing and popping clamor of the extreme heat on metal grew louder as he worked on the last edge of the latch. The torch seemed heavier in his hands. Hands that had been tremoring for the past two minutes or so. Almost there, he thought to himself as perspiration from his forehead ran over and around his goggles to the tip of his nose to drip down onto the heated surface of the medium sized floor safe, causing an instant Smokey hiss.
    The latch gave way with a ‘shhlock.' He let off the trigger, extinguishing the torch flame. His breathing heavy from exertion and anxiety. However, with a sudden burst of energy, he threw off the rubber gloves, quickly replacing them with thin leathers before pulling off the goggles. Holding a maglite, he pulled at the curved cylindrical latch handle. It gave way by centimeters only. Placing the maglite between his chin and chest, he used both hands to pull at the latch; letting loose audible grunts as his muscles strained and veins bulged before it finally grinded open. He exhaled, the flashlight slipping through the perspiration generated by his chin, neck, and chest. Falling into the safe, making a loud clang as it landed on the first of six metal lockboxes. The latch on the lockboxes were fitted with a lock and key. To leave the keys in, they hadn't anticipated anyone cracking, or burning, through the safe. He smiled to himself.
    He opened the first box, holding the flashlight above it. The light cast on the safe box contents made him gasp. This box contained the hundred dollar bills. Compressed stack upon compressed stack. The box was around four and a half inches deep and eight inches wide on all sides. Each stack of hundreds was in five thousand dollar increments. Four five thousand dollar stacks in four rows.
    The next box contained the fifty dollar bills. Each of the six boxes held a different denomination.
    Moving quickly, he loaded his small duffle bag with the hundreds, fifties, and twenties. “Why be greedy and take it all?” He thought out loud to himself. Figuring he was doing a service by leaving the tens, fives, and ones.
    He sat the small lockboxes back in place. Pushing the ruined safe closed behind it. He gathered all of his tools and stood within the small office of the Credit Union that contained spare cash registers, money counters, and shelves full of loan applications and documentation. Making sure there was no linking evidence, he crept through the darkness to the rope hanging from the ventilation duct to make his exit.
     
     
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    The notecard she received on the first dozen roses was harmless: Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl. Maryann reflected as she took the three block leisurely stroll to the café to meet Brett for tea and biscuits. It was dark and beautiful out with a very light breeze that made her thankful for the turtle neck she wore. Walking suited her, gave her the opportunity and time to clear her head and a bit