The Kind Killer (2)

Orlando tapped his fingers along the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern. He was parked on one side of the road, overlooking the tall apartment building. Watching the people go inside and out, as time passed, fewer people showed up at the entrance.

He was all too familiar with this routine. After all, he had been Romano’s errand boy for only a few years. Romano, in a rare act of kindness, had picked him off the streets and offered him shelter and food, more than he had been offered all his life.

At first, he had done all of Romano’s dirty work. Even then, they might not have agreed with him, but he did it anyway. He owed it to Romano for practically saving his life. So, on most nights, he was sitting in a car outside an apartment building, or he was taking a smoke, inconspicuously blending into the sea of people.

Other times, he was sipping a coffee in the park, or reading a book. It did not matter what he was doing; his hawk-like eyes were always trained on his prize. He was observ