As always, she delivered. There was never a trace, never a mess.
Honestly, I don’t know how she did it, and I never cared to ask.
She came referred to me by someone she used to work for; they parted on bad terms, and she shot him in the knee, but even then, he admired her work.
“Best I ever saw.”
He told me. It was up there, but workable.
She came in looking like new pearls; guess that made me the swine.
Short red dress, body like a tight spring, killer legs, not too made up, soft perfume, the whole nine, then nine more.
Now I realized why he kept her after she shot him; she was the kind of woman who could do that to a man and be forgiven instantly. Hell, I forgave her, then and there, and she never even took her gun out.
She crossed the killer legs, let me look my fill and travel my way up; when I finally got to her eyes, they were amused, and she was smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
“Do I pass…inspection?”
“With flying colors.”
She uncrossed the legs and leaned forward, eyes no longer amused, and told me her terms.
“I work alone. No cops, no tails. If I get wind of anyone, anyone, I’m giving you a refund, but I’m coming after you.”
I sat back, steepled my fingers, intrigued.
“You shouldn’t tip your hand so early.”
“I don’t care; I need to get to Mexico.”
She looked at me as I’d just fallen on my head and changed color.
“Why not Mexico?”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
I told her the job, and gave her a down payment, the rest to be paid upon completion.
“So, just to be clear, I work for you now?”
I held out my hand: “You can always give it back.”
We locked eyes for a few moments, before she brightened, smiled, and winked, all flirtatious play, like a shark bumping a hole in your sea cage.
“See you later, boss” she said, and left.
She did it in two days. No trace.
I paid her double.
She went on to do a few more jobs.
I liked her sass; you didn’t see girls with sass anymore; in my day, I might’ve held her for a bit, but she’d have burned me like acid.
I’d have melted away a happy man…
“Right there, Valentine.”
I pointed to the briefcase.
“Yes, they’re not marked, blah blah,” I said waving a dismissive hand.
“I trust you, Kent.”
“You should. How long we been together now?”
She smiled. “A gentleman remembers her birthday, never her age.”
“Ha, listen to you. You’re still in diapers, and you didn’t make that up.”
“I read, peasant.”
“Anything else for me,” she said.
“Might be, Valentine. Gimme a day or so.”
“You’re the only one that calls me ‘Valentine,’ Kent. Everyone else says ‘V’ or ‘Val’.
I got up, stretched, yawned, then said to her, “I ain’t everyone else. I like the way your name sounds. I like you, and I’d love to…well, if you’d let me, but that gets…”
“Expensive?” she teased.
I cleared my throat, then answered her.“Costly.”
She laughed then. “Charmer.”
She picked up the briefcase.
“Til next time, lover man.”
“If you’re ever feeling lonely…”
“I’ll call you.” She turned and blew me a kiss. “Promise.”
I never saw her again.
When they found what was left of her, I bawled like a kid.