“Don’t start,” she glared, shifting around in the passenger’s seat to check the kids. Both were buckled snug in their car-seats, sound asleep.
“Why do they do this crap during vacation time?”
“Not everybody goes on vacation at the same time.”
He snorted, mumbling something unkindly towards the street workers.
Why hadn’t they flown? Right, the expense, but with his salary they should have been able to fly round the world.
Oh, yeah, right, he used those miles and monies to treat his girlfriends, not his family. He’d taken one of the many to Paris last month. His family got to go to Myrtle Beach. She loved the beach, but…. Paris?
Ignoring his grumbling, she dozed off and on, relieved to feel the final turn towards home. She couldn’t bear one more moment in his presence.
The car turned into the driveway. He was out before the engine stopped tickling, leaving her with the kids and the unloading.
Hesitating by the back passenger door, she fiddled with the baby’s seat buckle. A moment later, a shot.
The front door slammed open. A man ran out, waving a gun.
Their eyes met. Held.
The killer winked and ran away.