Someone had to have been watching the property.

Someone knew that they would be home that night, and someone also had a good sense about what might have been in that house, and where.

Because when everything was burned up- when the house was a smoldering pile of embers early in the morning, after someone had let the authorities know that the house was a torch, an incandescent loss far off the road, back behind the dormant tract of fields, after the firemen had to stand and watch the structure crackle and crumble because their was poor water access, after things settled enough for them to make a quick foray into the crumbled structure, the police couldn’t find the safe.

The neighbors had known well enough about the safe, but the police did not find the giant box.

But they did find the bodies among the charred piles of junk.

Who did it?

Who did it?

Someone did it, because the bodies, big and able, were once brothers, and were both riddled with a number of bullets. And word was, the brothers were loaded. Everyone thought they were.

And the safe was gone.

Who did it?

And why.