Road to Heaven
Chapter One

"Hand it over," eighteen year old, brown haired, brown eyed Frank Hardy demanded of his year younger, blond headed, blue eyed brother, coming into the living room.
"Hand what over?" Joe asked innocently, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked up from the comic he was reading.
"What are you looking for honey?" asked blond, petite, green eyed Laura Hardy, the boys mother, looking up from her magazine.
"I was supposed to get a letter from Callie today," Frank told her, frowning at his little brother. "She mailed it two days ago and Joe got the mail this morning," he finished.
"Joe, did Frank get a letter from Callie?" Laura asked.
"Callie who?" Joe asked, cocking his head as if trying to remember the name.
"Joesph," Laura said sternly.
"All right," Joe grumbled with an exaggerated sigh. "Geez! I can't have any fun," he added, pulling an unopened envelope from between the pages of his comic and tossing it to his brother who caught it and hurried back up the stairs to read it.
Laura sighed and shook her head then returned to the article she had been reading. Joe, bored, put his comicc down, stood up and stretched. "I think I'll head down to the park," he told his mother. "Maybe someone's got a game going." Laura smiled up at him as he kissed her cheek before leaving.
Joe arrived at the park about twenty minutes later. There were a few elementary aged kids playing on the field so Joe strolled through the park and came out near Fred's Soda Shop. Joe went in and had a soda, waiting around to see if any of his friends came in.
Joe decided the worst part of summer vacation wasn't the heat, it was the fact that most of his friends were either on vacation with their families or had taken summer jobs. He sighed and started down the street. Maybe he would go to the arcade and play Alien Terminator. He hadn't beat the high score on it yet. Too hot to traipse around the block, he decided to take a short cut through the alley. Half-way down, he noticed his shoe was untied and stopped to tie it. As he was doing so, he heard someone step into the alley.
"Let's make this quick," hissed a male voice. Joe peered over the trash can he was behind and looked at the speaker. He was tall, maybe four inches taller than Joe's own six foot frame, had curly brown hair and dark skin. He was wearing a brown suit with a white dress shirt and brown tie. In his hand he held a black briefcase which he set atop another trash can and opened.
The man to whom the first had been speaking to, wearing a gray tee shirt and jeans, with black hair which sported wisps of gray around the temple, stepped close and picked up something from within the briefcase. Joe gasped when he saw the man holding a packet of bills.
"Half a million dollars as agreed on," said the man in the suit.
The other man put the stack of bills back into the briefcase and held up the plain brown paper bag he had been holding. He reached his hand inside while the other man's eyes grew in anticipation. But whatever he had been expecting he never got to see because he fell backwards into the wall as blood started spreading across his shirt. He opened his mouth to scream but the man in the tee shirt lifted the bag, now with no bottom and a silencer showing through, and fired at the man's head. The man in the suit slid down the building out of Joe's sight.
Joe looked at the man in the tee shirt again, memorizing every detail. He saw the killer tuck the gun into his jeans before closing the briefcase and locking it.
Joe held his breath, waiting for him to turn and leave, but instead of retreating the way he had entered, he headed down the alley. Joe quickly scooted over as far as he could, hoping the man would walk on by without noticing him but Joe was out of luck. Before Joe's back had even touched the wall, he was staring into the business end of the killer's gun.