“Shutters down, fifty percent.” He spoke to the smart-house computer.
Tollin crossed the floor, taking up his old position. He started by looking at the park. His eyes scanned the area but immediately something appeared out of place. He squinted, but straining his eyes didn’t change the view and he didn’t see any evident movement. Everything looked all right but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He couldn’t explain this nondescript sensation, but it was there all the same. Tollin started again, convinced that he could solve this conundrum. He knew this view and all its details. He pressed his hands against the glass, leaning into the window, then without warning, a noise in his penthouse captured his attention.
Tollin turned abruptly, not fully understanding his skittishness. His eyes scanned left, then right, then straight ahead. His penthouse took up two levels and there were three entrances; all of which had been locked after Holly arrived. His forehead wrinkled--he was certain he’d heard the sound of a closing door.
“Shutters close.”
Tollin moved away from the window, looking in the area where Holly had gone. He wanted to believe that she’d made the noise; telling himself this would assuage his fear but he couldn’t kid himself. The entry doors to his penthouse were all constructed of heavy impenetrable metal and when these doors were opened or closed they each made a distinct sound--and he was certain he’d heard that sound. But had he?
Tollin slowed his pace and he was amazed how sobering fear could be. He was thinking clearly and methodically. He approached the long hallway that led to the rear of his home. He edged to the turn, inching along while intently listening. He took a step or two back, until he finally decided to step into the open area. His eyes traced up then down both halls. He didn’t see or hear anything and he wanted to persuade himself that he’d been wrong, but at that very instant, Tollin heard another sound. He froze, listening, then he thought about his most recent investment. The Panic Room. Tollin’s thought was interrupted when he heard a clack, however due to the high ceilings, he couldn’t rightly discern exactly where the sound had originated. In spite of this he was certain that the noise was metal hitting metal and this caused him to worry. Now he heard a repeating noise--and the pattern sounded like footsteps. Tollin stood still, willing his body not to move. He had to be sure that the noise wasn't coming from Holly in the kitchen. On the inside, his eardrums boomed from the sound of his pounding heartbeat. The room was silent, except for the padding of feet--and this time, he was certain that the noise had come from the rear entryway. The sound moved across the marble floor. The rear entry was the only foyer where the walls and floor were constructed with imported marble. Without thinking Tollin knew exactly what to do. He moved swiftly crossing the open hallway, and that's when he saw him. A tall man dressed in head to toe black. He was carrying heavy weapons strapped across his chest. When their eyes momentarily met, the man aimed a weapon at Tollin. Heavy pounding bounded down the hall, in pursuit of him. On the other side of him Tollin heard a scream then a glass hit the floor shattering into hundreds of pieces. He didn't waste time looking because he already knew who the screamer was. Poor Holly.
“Tollin...wait...” she wailed with pleading in her voice. Tollin crossed a threshold, entering a seemingly inconspicuous alcove. A sensor switched on, detecting his presence. Tollin turned, facing the outer hallway. He could see Holly, racing to follow him. Her stride was like a graceful gazelle and her breast bounced in sync with her rhythm. She was fluid in motion--but it really didn’t matter. No amount of effort would help her now. Tollin heard the door closing, then the computer said...
“System engaged. Locking mechanism set in place.”
Holly’s voice had been silenced the second the door sealed him into the Panic Room. If only the door would have closed a few seconds earlier but it hadn’t and Tollin had witnessed it. The man that had pursued him--he’d turned his gun on Holly. He heard the muffled pops and Holly jerked with every hit. Blood squirted out of the holes, and he’d watched as she fell to the floor. She didn’t deserve to die but it was either him or her.
Tollin lowered his head, grateful to be alive. He stumbled back but he paused when he heard a ‘click’. Then everything made sense. He understood what had puzzled him earlier. It wasn’t that his view of the park had changed--it was the absence of the two men, pacing on the roof across the street. These men were currently inside of his penthouse. And one of those men had been out in the hall and was responsible for killing Holly. Then there had been that pop in his ears; the pressure had been caused by the opening and closing of his front door. While he’d been kissing Holly, trying not to hurt her feelings...that action had diverted his attention and he had not investigated the cause for the shift in pressure. Tollin turned, and as he suspected, a large gun was aimed directly at his head.
“Oh fuck” he muttered. I’m screwed was his forgone conclusion.
“Do you want to know?” That was the question. The man wearing the black mask was quizzing him. Seconds flew by and Tollin wondered; did he want to know? The question pertained to who had paid these men to kill him. Tollin leveled a cool gaze, purposely choosing not to give this man satisfaction, especially since he’d been sent to kill him.
The man repeated...
“I was told to tell you if you wanted to know.”
When Tollin still didn’t respond, the masked man acknowledged his silent response with a nod of his head. Since this man was wearing a mask, Tollin couldn’t see his facial expression...but he could see his eyes, and his gaze was blue and cold; lacking any expression.
Tollin saw no since in dragging this out; because begging wouldn’t save his life. He barked out...
“If you’re going to kill me--just get on with it!”
Karma was a bitch and now he was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. His year had started off with so much promise, then after six year old Amy Randolph had died; everything had gone to shit. Shortly after that, Tollin had loss the love of his life and after that, he’d thought that he’d reached rockbottom. But he’d been wrong, because in his wildest dreams, he would never have imagined a reality in which men would break into his home, with the intent to kill him.
The barrel of the gun was pressed on Tollin’s forehead but he wasn’t ready to die yet. Not with so many unanswered questions. Like--how did they get in the house and why did they kill Holly.
“Are you a religious man?” the masked man asked.
Tollin shook his head.
“To bad...but I hear, it’s never too late.”
Tollin frowned when he said...
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
The masked man said...
“All piss and vinegar. You’ll feel different when you’re standing face to face with your maker.” He shook his head, before saying... “Your funeral. ”
The next set of events occurred so fast, Tollin didn’t perceive the hit. After that, the intruder pressed one gloved hand against Tollin’s nose and mouth. He’d been drugged and it was all lights out. Tollin’s body slumped to the ground. Joplin stood over him, positioning his body, just so; before placing the gun in Tollin’s hand. He knew exactly what to do, then--a muffled sound bounced off the walls, ricocheting waves on sensor panels. The rebounding vibrations triggered the security system, causing the computer to say...
“Initiating systems check...”
Tollin’s body slumped to the ground. The close shot to the head made him unrecognizable. Half of his skull was splattered on the opposite wall. Joplin studied the blood spray, before resuming his work, creating a scene that would look like suicide, instead of a murder. The final touch was a copy of the letter sent from Gloria Wilcox-Randolph’s attorney. The one that had stated, the plaintiff's in the Amy Randolph case have declined the settlement and had decided to pursue civil litigation.