Chuck and Sammi

I briefly thought of quitting my job, but I was only thirty and liked my job as an IT specialist at First Commercial Bank. My boss liked me so we sat down and worked out a deal. I would spend four days in the office, get paid eighty percent of my current salary and be allowed three additional weeks of unpaid vacation each year.

My days off were spent painting and fixing up our new home. Sammi has a real flair for decorating, much different from the home where I grew up. Mom always had a thousand knick-knacks around the house and painted all the walls in shades of white. Sammi surprised and delighted me by selecting bold colors throughout our home. And barely a knick-knack to be seen.

I also started developing phone applications. 'Smart phones' were just then starting to enter the market and the creation of 'phone apps' could bring in some serious coin. Writing the apps in my free time was fun, and to get paid was a big bonus.

I had a nice home, a great job, money, and a beautiful, loving wife. But -- there's always a catch -- right?

The fly in my ointment was my brother-in-law.

Chapter Six -- The Brother-In-Law

Paul Miller spent his childhood as the 'miracle baby'. After a difficult first pregnancy, Faith Miller's OB/Gyn advised the Millers that a second baby might not be in their best interest. The Millers spent the next five years heeding the doctor's advice, then made a fateful error in birth control, resulting in another pregnancy. Being good Catholics, Glenn and Faith decided to put their faith in God and didn't terminate. Paul was delivered via cesarian after thirty-six weeks.

From the moment of his birth, Paul was spoiled by his mother, father and big sister. He never got into any major trouble, only minor infractions - caught with a little dope, once stealing adult tapes from the local video store, all kids' stuff.

Unlike his sister Samantha, Paul needed the money his parents set aside for college. It helped keep the loans from piling up during his five years at Washington State where he majored in Sociology, poker and drinking. After college, he moved back to Seattle and held a number of jobs, none for more than six months or might require physical exertion.

Paul developed a gambling obsession in college, a desire to avoid any hard work to earn money fed this obsession. During college he won so often at poker he began to think his skills would carry over into the big time. He never considered that his fraternity brothers and the other college students weren't very good and were easy pickings.

Things changed radically after moving back to Seattle. Paul tried his luck at the 'big boy' tables and quickly went in the hole, finding himself deep in debt to some dangerous people. Paul approached his sister for a loan and was lucky she still had money from the sale of her townhouse that hadn't been spent on the down payment of the Queen Anne home.

Six months later Paul was back, asking Sammi for another loan. Sammi's personal account was empty and she didn't feel right asking Chuck to float Paul a loan.

Despite his desperation, Paul couldn't ask his parents for the money. His mother had spent the last six months in and out of the hospital fighting cervical cancer. He knew they were strapped for cash and they didn't need another thing to cause them worry.

Paul walked out of a bar one night and felt himself being pulled back into an alley by two men. The bigger of the two did the talking. "Mr. Hanley is wondering when you will be paying him."

Paul got the words out, "Well, I was thinking.." before the smaller guy punched him in the stomach. Paul fell to his knees and vomited. Both men jumped back to keep their shoes from getting ruined.

The big guy pulled Paul's face up by pulling on his hair. "The right answer is -- I will have Mr. Hanley's money to him on Friday."

Paul was still trying to catch his breath, otherwise he may have been stupid enough to reply that Friday was only six days away and that didn't give him time to get the eight thousand he owed. The two men walked away, leaving Paul sitting against the dumpster.

Without options, Paul did the unthinkable. While his sister and brother-in-law were at work Monday morning, Paul broke into their house and stole Sammi's jewelry, Paul's comic collection, and other assorted objects which could be hocked. Paul drove down to Tacoma and was able to give Hanley his money a day early.

Paul felt bad at first, especially when his parents told him how his sister was having trouble sleeping since the robbery. But Paul thought, 'what the hell', it's all insured and she'll get over it -- eventually.

Two weeks later Chuck and Sammi hosted a Miller family get together to celebrate the good news, Faith's cancer was in remission. Paul noticed the new security system in the Pirelli household.

"How does it work?" Paul asked his sister.

In her naivety Sammi showed her brother how the system worked. Paul made a mental note to remember the pass code.

Later that afternoon, Paul asked Sammi if he could borrow her car, using the excuse they were out of their dad's favorite beer and a friend had dropped him off so he didn't have a car -- both true statements. Sammi threw him her car keys and Paul took off to the grocery store with a stop at the hardware store where he had duplicate keys made of the house and both cars.

*********************

Over the next year Paul broke even between the poker and the sports books. Then his luck ran out again, within a month he was down twenty grand to his bookie. A second visit from Hanley's associates resulted in two broken fingers and a broken nose. With time running out, Paul went back to his sister.

"I'm sorry Paul, I gave you everything I had last year." It broke Sammi's heart to turn her baby brother down.

"What about Chuck? He has the money."

"We can ask, but he's still pissed after I told him I lent you the money last year. Chuck thinks we're enabling you."

It took all of Paul's willpower not to reply, "fuck Chuck", knowing it wouldn't help.

Sammi and Paul approached Chuck that evening. After considerable begging, which further infuriated Paul, Chuck agreed to lend Paul ten thousand, enough to get Hanley off Paul's back for a couple months. Chuck promised to give Paul the remaining ten grand if Paul could stay out of the casinos for two months.

Unfortunately, neither Chuck nor Sammi understood a gambler's addiction. Paul took the ten-thousand and because none of the locals would take his action knowing he owed Hanley, he headed to Vegas. Two days later, Paul was back in Seattle, broke.

Paul was sitting in his apartment when the front door burst open. Hanley's two goons grabbed Paul and led him out to Mercedes sitting in the parking lot. Hanley was waiting in the back.

"Word on the street is you had my money and lost it down in Vegas."

Paul could barely look at the man. He was doing his best not to wet himself. "My cheapskate brother-in-law only gave me half. I figured I'd win the other half and we'd be clear."

Hanley shook his head. "Your bad luck. What ya going to do now?"

"I have an idea. The sonofabitch is worth millions. If he's dead, my sister gets it. She won't let me get hurt, she'll give me the money. If you wait, I'll double what I owe you."

"You got the balls to kill your sister's husband?"

"I thought maybe one of your guys could do it."

"We don't do that kind of shit, murder for hire. You want the guy dead, you gotta do it."

"I need a gun."

"That I can do. But it's going to cost you an extra five. Here's what we're going to do. You have three months from today to bring me fifty thousand. No extensions, no excuses. I don't have my money? Ninety-one days from today, you have a broken back. You'll get the gun tomorrow, it'll be untraceable, you'll get a call in the morning where to find it."

With a nod of Hanley's head, the big guy opened the car door.

"Oh, and Miller, don't even think about going to the cops. You'll have a broken back and be ball-less if you do."

The Mercedes drove off.

Paul received the call in the morning and found the gun where it was hidden. It was a snub nose revolver with a five shot cylinder. He checked, there were five.38 caliber hollow points. They would do the trick.

**********************

Paul spent the next two weeks planning and plotting, coming up with scores of ideas how to kill Chuck. It wouldn't do any good to get caught and sent to prison after killing the fucker. At the same time, he couldn't wait too long. Then, the perfect opportunity presented itself. He was having dinner at his parents' when his mother shared her plans for the weekend.

"Samantha and I are spending the weekend in Vancouver." Faith said excitedly. "It's been years since we had a girls' weekend shopping on Robson Street."

Paul could hardly contain himself. This was it. "Wonderful Mom." After he left his parents' house that evening, both his mother and father were pleased how happy their little 'miracle son' seemed to be. For so long Paul lived with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

*********************

Chuck was having trouble sleeping. He sat up and thought about it. He and Sammi celebrated their two year anniversary last month and this was the first night they weren't in bed together. How strange was that? To think it wasn't that long ago when he slept alone, now he couldn't sleep without Sammi next to him.

Then he thought he heard a noise. This old house creaked and moaned, but this was different. Almost sounded like the back door. Impossible, he made certain to lock both doors before heading upstairs to bed. If it was someone breaking in, the alarm would go off in thirty seconds. Chuck found himself holding his breath and silently counting. Twenty-nine, thirty. No alarm, it must have been his imagination.

Downstairs, Paul silently cursed that damn back door. He should have just left the damn thing open. He punched the security code in the wall unit controller. Then spent a half a minute standing perfectly still, waiting. He moved slowly into the hall and up the stairs, the revolver in his hand, his finger on the trigger. On the third step, the hardwood creaked, almost imperceptible, but at two a.m., it sounded loud.

Again, Paul stood perfectly still. Waiting, listening. Then took the next step, which didn't make a sound. Paul began to take the steps two at a time, figuring this reduced the possibility of a bad step by half.

Chuck was sure he heard something this time. Once again though, how could anyone be in the house without the alarm sounding? He got out of bed and tiptoed to the open bedroom door, cursing himself for sleeping naked, he felt so damn vulnerable without pants on. He made it to the door and in the low city light that always illuminated the hall through the skylight he saw -- Paul! Paul was standing on the other side of the doorway with a gun in his hand.

Chuck didn't even think, he reacted, grabbing the gun barrel and pushing. Everything happened in a flash. The gun went off and the two men went over the railing, falling to the first floor while clutching at each other's throat with their free hand.

Chapter Seven -- The Fallout

I woke up, looking around the room, obviously a hospital room. Sitting in the corner chair by the window sat Sammi, asleep. I turned my body toward her, which was a mistake, the pain in my chest tore through my entire body. A low moan escaped my lips, waking Sammi.

"Charles -- don't move!" She sprung up from the chair and grabbed my hand.

I remembered the gun going off. Did I get shot in the chest? "Sammi, what happened?"

"You're going to be okay. You broke three ribs and suffered a concussion. I pressed the call button like they told me so the doctor should be here in a few minutes."

"The gun went off."

"Oh Chuck." Sammi started to weep. "The bullet grazed your neck. An inch to the left and...." Sammi couldn't finish the sentence, starting the sob louder. Just then the doctor came in and I couldn't finish asking the questions swirling around my head. I hoped I'd remember them later; my head was splitting.

The doctor had a nice bedside manner. In an East Indian accent he ended up answering some of my unasked questions. "You're a lucky man, you may want to play this week's Powerball. The bullet that grazed your neck missed the carotid artery by less than a half inch. It would have been fatal if it had. You suffered three broken ribs, none of which punctured your lung. The knock on your head resulted in a mild concussion; you would have been awake hours ago, but the EMTs had to put you under to prevent you from moving around and shifting one or more of those ribs into your lung. All in all, lucky."

I didn't feel lucky but couldn't work up the strength to argue with the man.

"Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. Try to rest."

I wanted to know what happened to Paul but didn't think the doctor was the right person to ask. He finished his exam and left after giving the nurse some instructions I couldn't hear. Sammi was back at my side. I was about to ask her about Paul when the nurse kicked Sammi out of the room.

As the nurse went about her business, I took a chance. After reading her name tag I tried to sound friendly.

"Carol, any idea what happened to the other man who may have been admitted the same time as me?"

Carol gave me a look, mentally gauging how much to say. "If you're referring to Mr. Miller, your brother-in-law, he's in one of the security rooms. He suffered a broken back and may be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life. We won't know until he wakes up from the coma he's in, his head took a very nasty hit. Right now he's unresponsive."

Just then I heard a commotion in the hallway. It was my mother-in-law.

"It's all his fault. He has the money! Why didn't he give it to Paul when he asked? If your goddamn husband wasn't so damn cheap, Paul wouldn't be lying in that bed, in a coma and handcuffed."

Sammi started to reply, but Carol interrupted them, kicking both women out of the hallway.

So that's how it is with my in-laws. Despite everything I did for Paul, it would never be enough and I was to blame for Paul attacking me. More questions. Did Paul attack me because I pissed him off by refusing him the second loan? How does Sammi feel about it, does she blame me as well?

Two hours later my brother and sister came to see me. My brother actually kissed my forehead, my sister kissed my cheek with tears in her eyes. They both flew to Seattle on the first available flight out of O'Hare. Sammi called them while driving from Vancouver.

I was groggy but able to relate some of what I knew. My brother is the one who came up with a solid answer to my first question; he always had an analytical mind.

"It's the pre-nup, Chuck. With you dead, his sister inherits and his sister has always been a soft touch." Besides my wife, my brother Bill has always been my closest confidant and knew my issues with Paul. Hell, I couldn't bitch to Sammi about her and her family's unreasonable coddling of Paul, so Bill knew my concerns.

What Bill said made sense, but did Paul really believe he'd get away with it? Of one thing I was certain, Sammi had nothing to do with all this. At least that's what I thought at first.

By the time my brother and sister left, Sammi returned, spent a few minutes with them and stood by my bed, holding my head. I fell back asleep.

When I woke the next morning there was a strange man standing next to the bed, but by now I was immune to people coming in and out. At least twice during the night, some nurse or doctor came into the room, but this guy looked different.

"Hello Mr. Pirelli, I'm Detective Briscoe of the Seattle PD. Is it all right if I ask you a couple questions?"

"Think I can buzz the nurse for a cup of coffee first?"

"Sure, think she can bring two?"

I looked over to where my wife had been sitting. The detective followed my eyes. "I asked Mrs. Pirelli if we could have some time alone. She went down to the cafeteria."

We exchanged small talk, the nurse brought us two cups of coffee, looked at my eyes, she must have been checking something, then left me alone with Briscoe.

"Do you know of any reason why Paul Miller would want to kill you?"

"A couple reasons come to mind. First, I refused to lend him any more money. I lent him ten-thousand last month to pay off some gambling debts to some dangerous people and he used the money to go down to Vegas. He lost it all down there. When he asked for more, I refused."

Briscoe wrote all this down. "And the second reason?"

"My brother Bill thinks Paul wanted to kill me so my wife would inherit my money. I'm worth a considerable amount of money from the sale of a computer program to Amazon. Bill might have an over-active imagination. He thinks Paul would be able to talk my wife into giving him the money to save his life. A month ago Paul got beat up, his family thinks the people he owes money did it."

"If your wife was so anxious to protect her brother, couldn't she divorce you?"

"We have a pre-nuptial agreement. She wouldn't get any of that money in a divorce."

Briscoe almost smiled at that while writing furiously in his notebook. It occurred to me the detective had an evil mind. Maybe because he dealt with low-lives all the time.

He looked up from his notebook. "We noticed your home has a security alarm. Does your brother-in-law have the code and a key to your house?"

The question gave me pause. Damn, I remember turning the alarm on and locking all the doors when I went to bed. I hadn't given it any thought until just now. "No, he shouldn't have a key or the code. Nobody has it except for my wife and me."

"Where was your wife Saturday night?"

"With her mother. They planned a weekend of shopping in Vancouver."

There was that slight hint of a smile again. What is he thinking?

I asked, "Do you think he had help from the men he owes?"

"Something like that."

Just then Sammi returned, sticking her head in the door. "Can I come in yet?"

Briscoe answered her. "Sure, we're just finishing up."

Sammi walked over and took my hand and rubbed my forehead with the other.

Briscoe interrupted the moment. "Mrs. Pirelli, would you mind coming down to the station and answering a few questions?" He handed her his card.

Sammi looked at the card. "Can't I answer those questions here and now?"

"No, I'm sorry. We'd rather you answered them at the station. Call me at the number on the card and I'll meet you there. And please, let's do it today or tomorrow." He turned and left.

Sammi watched him walk out the door. "Should I call our lawyer and have him with me?"

"Why? It must be routine." But something started to niggle the back of my brain, something besides the headache which I was getting. The questions just kept piling up. Why couldn't Briscoe ask Sammi his questions here and now? Why did he make certain I knew she had to be questioned at the police station? More questions, few answers.

Chapter Eight -- Things Fall Apart & A Descent Into Madness

Sammi called the number on Detective Briscoe's card and made arrangements to meet him at the station later that afternoon. The doctor said he might release Chuck early tomorrow morning and Sammi didn't want to leave the house after she brought Chuck home.

One thing was certain, she wouldn't be asking her parents for help. Last night her mother made it quite clear she blamed Chuck for what happened, and her father stood silently by as her mother continued to harangue Sammi after they were asked to leave the hallway and then the building.

She told Chuck she was going home to change before she met with the detective and to make certain the cleaning crew hired to clean the blood had finished the job. For the first time, she saw something in Chuck's eyes which she couldn't understand.