WORKING VACATION, fiction By Michael Bracken
L ess than an hour after their arrival, Bob and Marcie Jones stood on the floating dock of the riverfront Airbnb Marcie had rented and let the cool breeze rearrange their hair. Bob took his wife’s hand and pulled her close. “I’m glad you did this,” he said. “We needed to get away.” Though work took them all over the United States, they rarely had time to enjoy the places they visited. They never stayed anywhere more than a few days before moving on to their next assignment, and having a long weekend to themselves felt like an eternity. “ I hope you don’t get bored,” Marcie told her husband. Bob turned to face her. “I’m never bored when I’m with you.” He lifted her chin with one finger and kissed her gently. “ Hey!” Startled, Bob stepped back from his wife and reached under his jacket for something that wasn’t there. A hulking middle-aged man, a holstered Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum at his hip, lumbered down the path leading from their rental home to the dock. He stoppe...