Off the Wagon, Part 6: The Best Laid Plans

The kidnapping was not going very well.
The little bitch was supposed to be here. She wasn’t, but she was supposed to be. She was supposed to have the chicken pox, home alone for the whole week while her parents were at work. She was only six and the rich fucks didn’t even spring for a baby sitter. They had watched the house for the past two days, and in both cases she just sat in the house, by herself, watching TV. Today however…
Tommy and Dale stood in the living room of a multi-million dollar house. Dale was leaning on the marble bar, a drink in his left hand. Probably whiskey, Jesus, Dale thought to himself. It wasn’t even nine o’clock and the alcoholic bastard was already at it.
“What are we going to do, Dale?” Tommy asked, his voice flat, “We can’t go to Booker empty handed. This was our last chance, we can’t pay him back any other way.”
“I fucking know that you asshole. But what the fuck am I going to do? Speak some magic words and make the little slut appear out of mid air?” Dale’s eyes tightened and his lips became more firm, “We’ve searched this whole goddamn house, she’d just not fucking here.”
“I didn’t ask you to restate the obvious, I asked what we’re going to do. Without that girl, we are dead. Tortured first, of course. Then dead. We have to find her. She has to be somewhere, how far can a little girl get without a car. She’s go to be somewhere in the neighborhood,” Tommy said before her finished what must have been at least two shots of whiskey.
“We know for sure she didn’t go with her parents today?”
“She was here when I left to come get you. I’m sure of it,” he said.
Tommy reached under the counter and poured another double.
“Go easy on that shit, man, fuck,” Dale said.
“Fuck you,” was Tommy’s only reply.
Dale’s anger flared, but he kept it in check. Tommy was right. She had to be somewhere. It would not be good to be seen driving around the neighborhood. The less they were seen ion the area the better. They were robbing Peter to pay Paul, and both of the bastards were violent, dangerous people. It would be all over if they were identified. Of course it hadn’t even started yet, or maybe it was already over, either way both of their worthless lives hinged on a little pigtailed bitch that just happened to be very connected.
“Let’s wait here few more hours, hopefully she’ll come home before her parents do. If she’s not here in two hours we go looking for her.”
Tommy nodded and Dale asked for some whiskey.