Architect of Murder

Something happens to a man when it’s over. It had happened to me. Almost twenty years ago when I was barely old enough to drink, I was training to be a man among men. I was training to be somebody. Special Forces. Regular army wasn’t good enough, it had to be the elite SF for me. Then there was the jump that changed my life. Or ended it, depending on how you want to look at it.

It was supposed to be a piece of cake. You jump out of the Gooney Bird at 4000 feet of altitude, the line opens your ‘chute, you land and roll. But the pilot misjudged the wind. Three of us wound up in the trees. Two of them hung there till someone cut ‘em down. My ‘chute tore free and I fell twenty feet to the ground.

They rebuilt the knee so as I could walk OK, but my SF days were over. Officially, they said it was due to the back injury that prevented my from carrying a pack. Army politics for you, I guess they expected me to hop around on one leg, but not with a bad back. They said it wasn’t my fault, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I was a civilian again with no hope of being anything but mediocre.

So while my buddies went to Vietnam to become war heroes, either dead or alive, I became a Private Investigator. A PI. Dan Rankin, PI. A title that fit me like a suit that wasn’t quite the right size. I made rent and scotch money following cheating spouses and the occasional missing person. Sometimes a missing pet. Like I said, it was over.

One of those SF buddies was Johnny Blackmore. Three purple hearts. A bronze star. A couple of other decorations that he won’t talk about. Six foot tall, athletic, now with gray brown hair still in a military cut and a Van Dyke beard. In a fistfight my money is always on him. Johnny is definitely the kind of guy you want as a friend and not an enemy.

Johnny looked me up when he got out. I am not sure what is worse. Never amounting to much, or making it to the top and then sliding back down. Anyway, he never thought less of me for washing out. I was embarrassed to only be able to offer him some office space and some inside scoop on becoming a PI. I considered it an insult, and I hadn’t accomplished half of what he had, but he took it without complaint. We have been partners for over ten years now.

Johnny carried a .45 Colt 1911A1. Just like what he carried in Vietnam. A semi automatic pisol that threw out a ball of fire at night and big pieces of lead. He had gotten so used to the Colt, it was second nature to him. It was nice to have a partner that wouldn’t freeze if the situation got a little sticky. Not that it happened all that often around here. After all, how much happens it a town like Howell, Michigan?

That’s why I carried a .38 Chief’s Special. A revolver. It had been 3 years since I fired it anywhere but at a range. Although I always admired the 1911A1, I never stayed quite as calm as Johnny. Adrenaline took over. I was always afraid of racking the slide and ejecting a live round on the floor. Nothing like the tink tink tink of a live round on the floor to tell the bad guy where you are at. Not only that, but I just knew I couldn’t break the habit of wrapping my left thumb over the top of the right hand. Any gun with a slide would cut a nice piece out of you and rub in gun oil just to add insult to injury. Johnny relied on his training, I relied on planning ahead and knowing my limitations.

The two small offices sit side by side with a small entry way in front of his. I have the bigger office, which leaves room for a small table that still rocks ‘cause the legs aren’t all the same length. Each office had one window that overlooked the alley and a brick office building across the way. They are the kind of windows that have little cranks on them to open up and get air. Half of my window still opened, the other half was stuck shut.

But today was a cool overcast day, there was no need to open a window. There was a constant drizzle. People complain about these kinds of days, but they feel comfortable to me. I just toss on a trench coat and get on with my day. Must be the gray matches my mood.

I had just slipped on the trenchcoat and was on my way to lunch. As I opened the door, she was standing there. She looked out of place. Too pretty. Babes like this didn’t wander around downtown. Blonde hair. Big blue eyes. A smile that was practiced. Everybody got one, but it really meant nothing.

"Dan Rankin?"

"That’s me." For a moment, I allowed myself to think that maybe this day would be special. Some good luck would come my way. Then I saw the wedding ring on her finger. I smiled. Nothing had changed.

"I’d like to hire you." She said, holding out her hand. "I’m Lisa Woodard, my husband Percy is missing and I need to find him."

I shook her hand. She had long slender fingers. And nails that were done at a fancy salon for sure.

"Come on in, take a seat." I stepped back behind my desk. She was wearing expensive clothes. Her dress was long and black, with a neck line that was either conservative or plunging depending on her posture. A voice in the back of my head told me not to trust her. Not just because she was a drop dead georgous woman, but because she just didn’t seem that shookup over her missing husband.

"How long has he been missing?"

"Since yesterday morning." She lit up a smoke after her answer and took a long drag. Her lipstick left lip marks on the smoke. "Percy always follows the same routine. Every morning he walks down to the local diner for breakfast at nine o’clock. He is back by noon, then he gets back to work."

"Back to work? Those sound like nice hours, what does he do?" I asked.

"My husband is an architect. His office is in our home. He is a fairly boring man, with a very rigid routine. This is not like him." Her face looked a bit bored as she waited for my reply. She took another drag from the smoke. She could have been in a commercial for those things. She made me want to start smoking.

But that voice in my head was talking again. "I don’t mean to offend you or anything, but you don’t act much like a distraught houswife. Why all the fuss about finding him?"

"We were going to divorce. The marriage, well, I . . I wanted a divorce. He wasn’t, I mean he doesn’t . . . want one. I can’t proceed with the divorce until he’s found, and some of our assets are tied up in real estate. I can’t access them until the divorce is settled. He’s not a bad guy. I just don’t love him anymore, that’s all. And since we never had any kids, .... well, ... it’ll just be better this way."

She looked at me with a new look. A pleading look. I began to sense a little sincerity creeping into the conversation. Her being materialistic added up in my mind. The voice in my head grew quieter.

"Will you take the case?" She asked, putting out the smoke prematurely.

"To be honest lady, I think the cops are better suited to this one. As an added bonus, they’re free."

"No, no cops. I am afraid that he’ll use it against me in the divorce. There is alot of money at stake here. That’s why I came to you."

"He’s missing ain’t he? How would he use that against you?"

"He’s, well, kind of a control freak. I don’t know how, but he would find a way. Plus, I don’t want to put my family through that kind of thing."

The voice in my head was back. First she came off materialistic, then suddenly she cared about her family. Somehow she made it all seem plausible. I had to give her that. I finally decided that if she was willing to pay a hundred bucks a day plus expenses, I could afford to poke around a little. She agreed to pay my fee and gave me two C notes up front as a retainer.

I asked about the usual stuff. What kind of car he drove, his clients, his pals. He drove a dark blue Buick, but it was home in the garage. She rattled off a list of his pals. The restaurant he was headed to for breakfast. She couldn’t remember all of his past clients. And in a true blonde moment, Lisa hadn’t brought a picture of her husband.

It reminded me of the lady that wanted me to find her missing dog. He was a mut. Gray. Medium sized. No collar. I swear, sometimes I think clients believe private investigators are out of work psychics.

I needed a picture of him and I needed to poke around his rolladex, so I made arrangements to drop by his office later that day. She slipped me the address and told me she would be home after two. That left me time to grab the lunch I was headed to. I walked with her to the street, then headed my way.

It was a very light September rain. My usual hangout was only three blocks from the office. I wasn’t too damp or cold when I arrived. But the voice in the back of my head would not shut up. Maybe a couple of scotch-rocks and a burger would quiet it up.

I arrived at her place around two thirty. The home was a two story brick house with columns front and center that went all the way to the second floor. It was on the edge of town and surrounded by more than a little land. I pulled my Chevy up and left it in the circular drive. Lisa answered the door before I could knock. She was wearing a housecoat with something underneath. It didn’t really show anything, but she wouldn’t have worn it out in public.

"Come on in Dan. Sorry about the way I’m dressed, I fell a bit behind. You wanted to see his office, right?" I nodded. "It’s right this way."

The voice was back. Fell a bit behind? She started out the day fully dressed. I was trying to figure out what she would be wearing if she had stayed on schedule. I chalked it up to the fact that I would never fully understand women.

She stood in the doorway of the office while I stepped in and had a look around. She was watching me with an inquisitive look. Finally she asked, "What are you looking for?".

"Clues." I responded flatly. What did she think I was looking for, the Hope Diamond? I hated to be watched while I worked, but I tried to be low key about it, since this was her house and all.

I found some letters in his IN box. All from the same place, Collingwood Entertainment, inc. The plans on his table looked to be for a restaurant, and the letters in the inbox referred to the restaurant design. The address on the letters was a PO box, but Percy’s rolladex had a street address and phone number. Each of the letters was signed Chris Simpson.

"This will give me a place to start." I told her.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" She asked. She had a slightly musical tone to her voice, and kind of an innocent look on her face. She took a drag from her cigarette and let it out. I enjoyed watching her smoke.

"No thanks. I’ll nose around for a day. Drop by the office tomorrow afternoon. I’ll fill you in on my progress." As I eased by her, I smelled her perfume. It cut through the smoke and the numbness of my scotch-rocks and hit me like another drink. I started thinking thoughts that I knew better than to think. The voice in my head was screaming at me. I paused by the front door and looked back for her response.

"I have some errands to run. I can drop by around three, if that’s OK?" Lisa was still using that musical tone.

"Yeah, fine." I tried to sound calm, cool, and collected. But my heart was pounding just a bit more than usual. I felt like an idiot. I just wanted to leave, because I knew damn well that it was just my imagination that I had any chance of being invited to stay. It was raining harder now, so I had an excuse to hurry back to my car. I drove off collecting my thoughts, telling myself to concentrate on the job. Telling myself to be professional.

I decided to hit Percy’s breakfast place in the morning, when the breakfast crowd was likely to be there. So I headed over to Collingwood Entertainment to ask around. A half hour had passed and I felt like myself again. The stupid thoughts were few and far between. The voice in my head just wouldn’t shut up, though.

The address was a clean commercial building out in the country. It looked a bit out of place. Like a city office, but not in the city. I walked up to the front door and knocked. I casually dropped my right hand into my coat pocket, fingering my Chief’s Special. Then a smirk grew across my face. First, I start falling for a society babe that is at best playing me for a sucker. Then I start acting like I am in some sort of James Bond movie, expecting trouble everytime somebody opens a door. I pulled my hand back out of my pocket and shook my head as the door opened.

A robust blonde fellow answered the door. He still had a dark tan, despite the Autumn season. "Bob Johnson, what can I do for you?" He bellowed as much as spoke, thrusting out his mit for me to shake. I instantly disliked him. He had too much energy, too much smile, too much everything. I was glad that I no longer had a gun in my hand.

"I’m looking for a Chris Simpson, is he around?"

"She, Chris is a she, and, uh, yeah, as a matter of fact she is in. Right this way. Who should I say is calling?"

"Dan Rankin."

We walked to an office in the back. Chris got up from behind her desk to greet me as I came in. She was wearing a white mini skirt that was a size or so too small and a striped top that was equally small. Big platinum blonde hair. She gave me the impression that five or ten years ago she would have been hotter than hot in that outfit. High class expensive stripper hot. In her mid to late thirties she almost pulls it off. Not quite, but almost. Close enough to be entertaining, anyway.

"What can I do for you?" She asked.

I told her I was from a bonding company, looking into the background of Percy Woodard. Standard procedure, I told her. She seemed to have plenty of time on her hands and we had a very open half hour conversation.

I hated to lie. I hated it more because that voice in my head said I was doing it just to protect Lisa. If Chris didn’t know that Percy was missing, it would certainly get out in a hurry if my opening line was "Percy Woodard is missing, when’s the last time you talked to him?" I should have insisted that Lisa go to the cops. I shouldn’t have taken this case. I shouldn’t have been thinking those stupid thoughts about Lisa. There were other fish in the sea after all. The babe in the white mini-skirt was proof enough of that. But now I had no choice but to lie.

I left Chris’ office, delighted that I was able to avoid the energetic blonde fellow on the way out. As I drove off I reviewed what I had learned. Basically, not much. They had met face to face early on, but now worked only by mail. Percy had finished the design, so Chris didn’t expect to hear from him for several weeks when they would start construction. He had been paid in monthly installments during the year long project. A sizeable bonus was still to be paid upon completion of the building.

I decided to call it a day. The voice in my head was chattering. All I could think about was Lisa. I wondered how I would ever make any progress towards finding Percy. I began to wonder if she really wanted me to find him.

The next morning I went to Edna’s. It was the restaurant that Lisa told me was the place her husband went every morning for breakfast. It was a small place near the edge of town, a fifteen minute walk from the Woodard’s home.

I went in and sat at the counter. The waitress, Dee, was wearing a nondescript black and white uniform, typical for a small diner. She was very slender, with her hair pulled not so neatly up. A fine pointy nose. Her bloused fit her with a one-size-fits-all kind of tailoring that made it difficult to see her form.

She took the pencil from her ear as she asked for my order, "What’ll it be?"

I like a big breakfast, and that suited my purpose here. The plan was to take a while to eat and enjoy my cup of coffee. Just like the night before, I had to poke around without saying I was looking for a missing person.

"I’ll have the western omelette with toast, bacon, and hash browns." I said.

"Coffee?"

"Black."

With that she turned and went to place the order. She acted like she didn’t want to be there. Funny, I didn’t either.

When the food arrived, I asked her "Say, do you know a fellow by the name of Percy Woodard? I was supposed to meet him here this morning, but I don’t see him."

"Nope, never heard of him?"

"Really? I thought he was a regular."

"No regular here. I know all of my regulars. None of them are named Percy."

I described him, suggesting that she just might not know him by name. Nothing. Didn’t know him. And yes, she was the regular morning waitress.

I acted like he stood me up after waiting for an hour, and left. My first thought was that Lisa had lied to me. But why? It didn’t add up. Was I investigating Percy when I should have been investigating Lisa?

I headed over to the usual place for lunch and scotch-rocks. Only I had eaten enough that I could skip the lunch. Renee was serving the drinks and I was drinkin’ em. It was worth it just to be around a smile like hers. When I looked into Renee’s eyes, I saw no complication. Just a kind, hard working gal hustling for tips. The voice in my head was chattering away, and the scotch wouldn’t quiet it down.

When I returned to the office Lisa was waiting for me. She was sitting at the unsteady table. Johnny had let her in. She stood up as I came through the door. She was wearing slacks and a form fitting black turtleneck. You could see the shape of her breasts clearly. They were of moderate size, but firm. They left the impression that without her bra, they would have exactly the same shape. The smell of her perfume reached me. My head was reeling.

"What have you found out?" She asked.

"Not much so far."

I thought I was being played, but had to figure a way to be sure. She had been flirting, and once again there was an inviting look in her eyes as she took a drag from her cigarette. If I made a pass at her and she went for it, then she was playing straight up. If she recoiled from my advance, then she was playing me.

I decided that I had to make her think I was making a pass at her, but have an explanation if things didn’t go my way. Luck was with me. I stepped toward her with my right hand extended to reach for her hair. She stepped back.

"Dan!" She sounded surprised. "I’m still a married woman." She took a step back and brushed my hand away.

My expression did not change. I said, "Fine, then you can knock that spider off your shoulder." I then turned and went to step behind my desk. I wasn’t looking as she screamed and jumped up against the wall.

By the time I was seated and caught her eye again she was sliding back into the chair by the table. She was a little rattled. It was a three point play. One point for finding out if she was playing me. One point for leaving her rattled. And one point for saving money on the exterminator.

"I’m sorry, I . .. " She started.

"Don’t worry about it." I said, tossing my hand up.

"I checked out Edna’s this morning. I wasn’t able to find anyone there that knew your husband, are you sure that’s where he eats every morning?"

"Well, that’s what he said." Then, slowly, a look of horror crept over her face. "Oh, no. Do you think he was cheating on me as well?" She seemed positively distraught over this possiblity.

"I have no evidence of that, but it might prove useful to figure out where he’s been going every morning."

"I don’t know. I don’t know." Lisa sobbed.

The voice was louder now. If Percy was missing, that didn’t seem to bring too much emotion to Lisa. But if he had an affair, that seemed to rate sobbing. Had she really thought that he went there every morning for breakfast? Was this an act? If it was, then why? I couldn’t think of a good reason. Plus, I was hoping that I was wrong about her. I was wishing that she hadn’t moved while I brushed the spyder away.

I don’t remember what else we talked about. My head had a thousand thoughts going through it. I had caught her flirting with me and then she pushed me away. But I still couldn’t take satisfaction in that. I just wasn’t sure about anything. After a while she left and I stared out the window.

I decided it was time for more food. A liquid lunch wasn’t helping me sort things out. I headed for the usual place. A gal had called in sick and Renee was working a double. I was glad to see her. As an added bonus, she was tired from having worked an entire shift and knew the boss wouldn’t mind too much if she hung around a bit and chatted more than usual.

I was halfway through the burger. Renee was telling me about a new outfit she wanted to wear out that night when Lisa sat down next to me. Renee’s eyebrows rose a little and she whistled softly. I turned to look at Lisa.

"She your girlfriend." Lisa said accusingly.

"I thought you were married."

"I, I am. But not happily." She softened up a bit. "I am a bit confused right now. All this chaos in my life. I just don’t know how I feel."

She started to seem real to me again. I wanted to believe her more now than ever. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her. But the spyder incident had told me that I was going to have to play this cool.

"How did you find me here?" I asked.

"Johnny told me you’d probably be here. I just had to talk to you."

"About what."

"I care about you Dan, I realize that now. I am sorry about earlier." She had a look on her face like a puppy that was begging for dinner.

"It couldn’t wait for tomorrow?" I said flatly.

"There’s also something else. I discovered that he took his gun. He has a 9mm Browning that he always kept in the nightstand. It’s gone. I wanted to tell you to be careful."

"I’m always careful." I said. I could care less that he took the gun, except that it added another piece to the puzzle that didn’t fit well.

"I’m sorry I bothered you here. Please be careful, OK?" With that, she came forward and kissed me, square on the lips. Softly. Delicately. Then she smiled and was gone.

The smell of her perfume lingered. I tembled. I felt flushed. The voice in my head was screaming. Renee came over with a look like she was going to rib me a bit, but realized that I was not in the mood.

"Anything I can do for you?" Renee asked.

"Another scotch-rocks." I said like a zombie.

Maybe this guy Percy was a creep. I mean, who leaves a babe like that behind and unattended. Maybe he was having an affair. Maybe I was going to uncover a great crime that he was going to commit with his pistol.

If all this were true, I wasn’t getting any closer to figuring it out. And if Lisa was playing me, I hadn’t figured out the game yet. The jukebox started up with the Doors’ "This is the end . . . . " I was thinking that I wish it were over. I wished it had never started. I was starting the miss the boredom of my life before this case began.

I decided it was time to check out Lisa. I went downtown and cashed in a chip with a buddy in records. Every PI needs a connection at the local police establishment that he can tap without going through official channels. Harry was that connection. I didn’t know what I was looking for exactly, but I wanted to see how much didn’t add up.

"Where do her folks live, Harry?"

Harry typed some entries into a teletype. The machine started to spit out lines of text on long sheets of perforated paper like a cross between a machine gun and typewriter.

"Aren’t computers something?" He said as he read the output. "It says here that she has no folks."

"You mean they died?"

"Early on, she was raised in an orphanage. No folks. No siblings. Just a couple of arrests for shoplifting. But that was as juvenile. It’s no longer part of her official record" Harry looked up at me. "Any help to you?"

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks"

I thought about going to her house to confront Lisa. But decided it was better to wait until she dropped by the office to see how things were going. That was I had a better chance to catch her off balance.

I headed to the usual place for lunch. While Renee served drinks and and a burger, I sorted out how I would approach the issue with Lisa. I couldn’t believe how complicated this was becoming.

After lunch I headed back to the office and waited. I couldn’t concentrate and I couldn’t get anything done. Lisa had lied to me. But I still wanted desparately to believe her. I was kicking myself. The voice was screaming, despite the three scotch-rocks I’d had to try and quiet it down.

If I had Lisa pegged, she would come through the door conservatively dressed. After kissing me last night, she wouldn’t even flirt. She would be checking to see if the hook was set. Waiting to see if I’d snap at the bait again. I was beginning to figure her out. Maybe.

Sure enough, she arrived all smiles. She was wearing a pant-suit. Real business like. Nothing too sexy. She took the seat at the table, lit up a smoke, and asked what I had found out.

"I’m hitting a lot of dead ends." I started. "And I am puzzled by something."

"What." She acted a bit tentative. Did she know what I was going to aske her?

"Why don’t you want to go to the cops?"

"I told you."

"Yeah, you told me you didn’t want to drag your family through all this."

"Yeah, so . . " Her look was turning a bit cold now.

"So, you don’t have a family Lisa. You were blowing smoke." I looked at her with a resolute stare.

She paused a second. Looked out the window. Then looked back at me. "So that’s it? That is what’s bugging you?" She started to get mad. "When I said my family I meant Percy’s folks. I don’t have any family, and they have been wonderful to me. I don’t want to hurt them."

After a pause, she turned accusatory. "You didn’t ask me specifically what I meant by family did you? No you didn’t. You don’t trust me do you? That’s it. You don’t trust me. And I was starting to fall for you. I should have know better."

I knew that she was going to have a comeback, so I was prepared. No matter what I was just going to look her in the eye and not change expression. That’s what I did. Except her explanation was plausible. She may have really meant his folks. Damn. Once again I just wasn’t sure.

Lisa stood up, "Fine. I’ll go find another PI. I’ll have your fee for you tomorrow." She turned on her heels and walked out.

Lisa slammed the door behind her. But something told me that it wasn’t over. It couldn’t be this easy. She would return tomorrow or the next day. There would be some extenuating circumstance that meant she had to ask me to continue the case. I just didn’t know what it was going to be.

I found out just before lunch. Lisa burst throught the door.

"Dan, I’m scared. You have to help me." She’d been crying, her mascara was smudged.

"What now?" I tried not to sound like a smart alec, but I knew there was going to be a play of some kind.

"He’s going to kill me."

"Who’s going to kill you?"

"Percy. He called this morning. He said that first he decided that he would just go away. But now he thought about it and he wants to stay and kill me. He sounded crazy."

Lisa was shaking. Tears were running down her cheeks. I was starting to believe her.

"OK, but we have to play this my if this threat is real." I looked directly into her eyes.

"OK, what do you have in mind?" She replied.

"Johnny’s got a cottage on a Lake St. Clair. We can bug out there while we sort this thing out. He won’t be able to find us there."

"Oh, thank you, thank you Dan. I’m so sorry . . "

I lifted my hand, "Don’t worry about it. Let me tell Johnny and slip him a couple of bills to pay for me while we’re gone."

She was going to let me do things my way. She was going to trust me. Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe I’d been paranoid. One thing was for sure. If her life really was in danger, then I damn well better not let her get killed.

The voices screaming in my head. I jotted down a note to Johnny and stepped into his office.

"Can I borrow your cottage, Johnny?"

"Yeah, sure, you know you can. I overheard. Let me know if you need anything." Johnny replied.

"Just pay these bills, will you?" I handed him the note.

"Sure." He read the note and nodded.

"Let’s go." I said, and Lisa and I took off in her car.

She had a bright red Buick two-door. I took a scenic route out of town to make sure that were weren’t followed. Then I took some back roads, and followed the coast for a while. There were faster routes, but it was a cool Autumn day with a bright sun shining and it felt like a good day for a liesurely drive.

"I feel safer now. Thank’s Dan." Lisa looked at me with a smile.

"Nothing will happen to you with me around." I reassured her. I put my arm around her. She snuggled in closer. This just might work out, I thought. I hadn’t felt this way in years. Warm. Relaxed. Good. If only it could last.

We arrived at the cottage and I told her to settle in while I headed down to the water to relax. It was a small cottage, nestled in a bunch of trees. Down by the water was a boathouse. Set up against a patch of brush on one side, the boathouse was half over water and half over land. Once you stepped inside, there was a well on the left that kept a small boat with a motor. I was headed to the dock that was attached to the other end of the boathouse through another door.

I had spent many an hour sitting on this dock and looking out over the water. It had a soothing affect on me. The door was spring loaded and closed behind me as I stepped out on the dock and sat down. I leaned up against a post and tried to make sense of the last few days. I put my hand in my jacket pocket and let it rest on the Chief’s Special. I tried to make it a point never to let my guard down.

There was just the slightest breeze. Enough to carry the smell of clean lake air to the nostrils. Small wavelets pattered against the posts and shore. The sun was hanging over the trees. In the distance I could hear a single bird. It was wonderful. Maybe this would work out with Lisa. Maybe my life would change dramatically from bachelor to a guy with the wonderful charismatic companion. I didn’t want to be so cynical that I missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime.

A half hour passed. I felt relaxed. The voice was getting quite. I closed my eyes and listened to the water.

Then the shot rang out.

I jumped up in time to see the splash. It was Lisa. Her head and shoulders were in the water. In an inch of water next to her was a Browning 9mm. A crimson color crept from her body. I noticed that she was wearing gloves.

Johnny stepped out from behind the trees. We both stood there for a while with our guns pointed nowhere in particular.

"I’m sorry Dan. I had to let her make her move. Once she did, she drew a bead on you so quickly that I had to take her out. I’m sorry."

"It’s Ok. I knew I could count on you. It’s just a waste. Such a waste."

The note I had slipped Johnny told him where I was going to go soon after we got to the cottage. I took the long way so he could beat us there. Being on the dock left only one path to sneak up, and Johnny covered it.

Lisa was going to off me and frame Percy for it. That’s why she was wearing the gloves and using his gun.

Percy arrived home that afternoon and didn’t know anyone thought he was missing. He had been thinking of buying a sailboat and Lisa’s friend Bernie had offered to take him out on his for a week so he could check it out. Percy was shocked. He thought he had the perfect marriage.

Bernie looked like a conspirator, but it was all circumstantial. However, he was such a weenie, that he started to plea bargain before he was charged. He knew Lisa was going to off somebody and frame Percy. He actually thought that the two of them would live happily ever after on Percy’s money. I wonder what Lisa really had in mind for Bernie.

The cops called it a good shoot, and Johnny was cleared of any wrongdoing. We both knew it had to be, but it still feels good to hear it.

Under the circumstances, I never had the heart to approach Percy for the rest of my fee. I considered myself lucky for the two C notes and called it even.

The next day I was at the regular place for lunch. I sat down at the bar with a thousand yard stare. Renee flashed a smile at me and dropped a scotch-rocks in front of me. I knew there was no chance at all that I was going home with her that night, or any other. And that was just fine with me. The voice in my head was quiet now. Her smile made the booze taste better. I downed the drink and ordered another scotch-rocks, easy on the rocks.