Just Business

When do you know when enough is enough?

My latest employee had been around for six months, lately he had started to get on my nerves.

Every time we were out on a business venture, he always had to stick to me like glue. I told him to find someone else to talk to as I wanted to work the crowd,  I needed to get more backing for a new project that I had been working hard on for several months.

Most of my clients were wealthy men who had to be seduced into opening their wallets. To me that was part of the game we played and I knew I had a mooch hooked to give me a large cheque when I flirted back and led them on.  A woman in this fast pace lifestyle had to work her wiles to have them coming back with every new project that I brought to them. I loved living on this edge as in my business I walked a fine line between legal and not so legal. I brought big dividends to my clients. I had made millions but so had they.

Salvador is what he called himself. His real name was Sam, but he thought that was just not suitable for his self-esteem it was too plain according to him. He thought he could play with the big boys. And girls. 
He had started showing a jealous streak especially if one of my clients came on strong towards me. He didn't seem to get that I was actually playing that game for my own benefit. He was only my window dressing and bodyguard when I needed a big man to serve as my messenger for any unpleasant tasks.

I had decided Salvador had outdone his usefulness and after tonight, he would be sent packing, as he had started to think he was a big part of my business that I alone had built. He was starting to remind me of my last employee who was still bothering me after I had fired him over a year ago. Why did men think they were smarter than I was?   
That is where they made a big mistake.

Arriving at our home after a very successful night, I poured myself a drink and one for Sam. Then wrote out a severance cheque. Handing it to him, he tore it up and told me that I was not going to get rid of him that easy, he was now part of my empire and was staying as he had lots of information on me and had no problem telling the tax department or the police.

I told him he did not know who he was dealing with and he would be smart to take the cheque. He laughed saying he was in for the long haul and expected more money to keep his mouth shut.

That is when my mind started to plan on how to get rid of him. Nobody was going to blackmail me and get away with it. I had worked far too long and hard to get where I was. I told him I would sleep on his proposition and let him know in the morning. Pouring him another drink, he smirked, downing it in one swallow and left for his room boasting that he had big plans for us being together as a couple so for me to think on that through the night. 

I waited for him to go to sleep and quietly I slipped into his room. The pills were defiantly working that I had slipped into his drinks. Tying his arms and legs and putting tape over his mouth, he never stirred. My intuition was right on knowing he would not leave quietly without his own nefarious plan. His breathing was a bit slow, but nothing that would show when he woke up. I left with his watch and his glass from the drinks, making sure not to leave my fingerprints. I also took one of Sams shoes to leave an impression on the dirt outside my ex-employee  house.  Heading out to visit Greg.

He let me in when I rung up, looking happy to see me. The first comment out of his mouth was he knew I would need him back. 

I shot him with my Beretta. 

Messed his place up making it look like a fight had happened, leaving the watch and glass near the body.

Heading home, I looked in on Sam who was still in a sound sleep. Wiping off the gun I placed his hands around it laying it beside his sleeping body. Took the tape off his mouth and undid his hands and legs. He remained in a sound sleep.

I waited for another two hours, then lifting the phone, I explained to the operator at 911. I had heard my employee come in. He came into my room waving my gun around and yelling about killing my ex-employee out of jealousy. 
Please send the police right away. I was afraid for my life. Sam awoke already in handcuffs and is now serving twenty years.

Talk about killing two birds with one bullet.

Soul search

My soul was feeling ethereal, I could not recognize why.

I had fidgety nights, waking and not able to get back to sleep. My psyche was out of balance, as much as I tried to figure out what was erroneous I could not. My symmetry was definitely off and the sensation kept creeping in that someone watched from above the universe.

 

Voices came in waves, I could never understand what they said, but it was continuous through the night. When I finally slept, my dreams were indistinguishable of what had transpired, never remembering what my imaginings had been. That was strange for me as I always remembered when I awoke. My body felt that I had been out in a cloudburst as I was drenched and quivering. Something was happening in the cosmos, until I could find out what I would not be at peace within my core.

I had not taken to the skies for any extraterrestrial travel and wondered if that was my problem. I must admit the last trip had left me uncertain of what I would encounter on my next undertaking to visit my friends. The last twice I had only run into my angels and devil like creatures. They had been waiting for me on both trips. None of my human friends had ventured to the skies for sometime. Did they have a shocking incident as I had come across and were fearful to return?

I was a person who faced my fears and decided to try to travel tonight.

The skies were full of foreboding dark clouds, not a pleasant night. Should I put off my travels for a brighter and more pleasurable time? Was I just procrastinating? Looking for an excuse not to go tonight?  My body trembled as I lay in bed waiting for sleep to come. My spirit felt heavy as a brick as I lay willing myself to go, nothing happened and I was about to give up when I started floating high above the clouds. They seemed to part as I rose higher with every movement I made. Yet I still had a laden down feeling within.

I could only see streaks of light flying through the clouds as darkness surrounded me. I felt vulnerable and alone, not a friendly face, just mysterious space invader like figures swirling around me, coming closer every time.

I moved away going higher into murky space. No stars shone and I could not see clearly, so I decided to return to earth. As I floated downward, a gust of wind kept pulling me higher above the clouds. Some terrestrial life form had control of my body not giving me a chance to break free. I could feel their power as I was under their magnetic pull. They wanted me to see what was transpiring in my universe.

What I saw directly in front of me was complete carnage. The devil spirit figures were being eliminated, one by one, as they tried to sweep away these small creatures from outer space. They had more power than the evil devils.  Now I wondered if these aliens wanted to be our friends. Or showing us what they were capable of.

My angels floating in groups came into view looking unsure, not understanding what had been happening. The devil spirits were all gone, but for how long?

The sky opened up as the last space invader disappeared from sight as the stars shone brightly and lit up the white clouds.

My equilibrium felt centered once again.

Thought Process

The last few weeks I have had time to review my life and wonder in what direction to take as I turn a corner in my destiny.

I have spent hours trying to decide in which direction to go .Since I can remember I always took the path less traveled.  Since I was a kid, I always sided with the underdog, it always got me into trouble. That is why I am sitting in jail now.

Even my parents called me trouble from an early age. I really tried to be normal, but it was so hard for me to stay focused in school or any job that I applied for. Eventually they would fire me saying I just was not suitable for the position. One job I kept for a whole month, I think they felt sorry for me or just desperate at the time to fill the space. It was as if I was on a treadmill trying to stay on but always falling off. 

My thought process changed after my last job, I started to look around and see what would benefit me, not them. I started slowly pilfering small amounts of money, then walking home handing out what I had stolen to the less fortunate. I was loved in my neighborhoods everyone had a wave as I passed. This went on for over a year with many jobs in-between from cleaning houses to working in department stores but would finally get caught taking something that did not belong to me. I would never admit to any theft and was never charged.

I hit the big time when Brinks hired me to count money in their dungeon of what they called an office.  Cameras everywhere even in the washrooms. I sat at a table with bags stacked high with a machine automatically sucking and counting, putting them in piles, thousands of bills that went through all day. I loved the feeling of touching it and of the power, I felt surrounded by all the color of the bills. I felt exhilarated for eight hours when I was there.

 
My brain started to burn with all the possibilities that I had in front on me. However, knowing my record of accomplishment, I had to devise a system quickly to get as much out of there in a matter of days. Going home, I sewed expandable pockets into my skirts. My boss was a pudgy bald man in his fifties; he was overweight and swallowed a doughnut in one bite. I brought him big homemade cookies every day and was his friend for life.

I started my day off feeling very confident that I could beat their system. After lunch, pudgy always stayed in his office and had a nap. I had moved my chair closer to the air conditioner knowing I was on the edge of the camera. The other girls really did not talk much through the day. I was not the chitchat type anyways. On a trial run I accidentally dropped a pile of bills making a big deal, saying sorry and continued to put the money into the machine,  when pudgy looked up winked and closed his eyes again. One pile stayed on the floor, as I slowly slipped them into my boot. Back to counting, then left to go to the washroom, closing the door as I slipped the pile into my pockets with my back to the camera. Easy, so I thought.

I looked forward to going to work daily, the thrill of getting more brazen every time. I had started out with small amounts, it only took a few days before my boots were filled and I was deciding whether to get a larger size boot. Every time I headed to the washroom, my spirits rose and the excitement of it all was overwhelming. Only one glitch happened as I was stuffing the money into my pocket on the second day, a bill fell to the floor. Dropping my purse over it quickly, trying to do so making it look natural for the cameras, I scooped it up as I went back to work.

This went on for another week. They were very slack and did not seem to notice any money missing, I had hit the jackpot. Feeling jubilant and so were the homeless along my route home. Arriving to work the second week, which was a miracle in itself. I knew something was very wrong, as Pudgy had a sad look on his face telling us money was missing. The books did not balance with the cash that was entered. The discrepancy was over five thousand dollars. My thought was did I really get that much in such a short time.

The police were there to question us all. They could not know who it was as I was careful around the cameras and knew exactly the places they were situated.  They questioned us all separately so I knew I was not the only suspect. I would just cool it for a few days and then carry on.

They asked me being the newest one hired, if I had seen anything irregular amongst the others and said no, and told them I was shocked to think I was working with a thief. That was when they showed me the video of me dropping the money on the floor and slipping it into my boots. The sneaky bastards had a pinhole camera mounted under my table. Pudgy looked very sad as they took me away in handcuffs. I wondered if he was sad because he would not be getting any more cookies.

 

I was charged with theft over five hundred dollars, I pleaded guilty because of the video. The judge asked me where the money was and if I returned it, he would consider that with my sentencing.  I told him what I had done with the money and so they pegged me with the name Robin Hood’s helper in the newspaper.

As I said, I had been renewing my life as I have only two more weeks inside and have to decide what journey I will be taking when I get out. Jail was not as bad as I had been led to believe. I finally had made a few friends and we plan to get together and brain-storm when released.

I honestly do not think I will ever lead a normal life.

Phone Call

Late one night the phone rang and my life changed forever. My bags were packed to head home for the summer the next day. Only one more year left of medical school and I would be an intern in my hometown this time next year. I was in the top five in my class and could have picked any hospital for work. I chose to go back to my roots and eventually work for my dad in his medical practice.

I was in a deep sleep having celebrated with my classmates and probably drank too many margaritas. Realizing it was my phone that was buzzing on my side table I grabbed for it. Thinking it may be my mom making sure I was on schedule as she was a worrier and an organizer for us all. I had not seen my younger sibling since Christmas, when I went home for a family celebration.  The voice was not familiar when they asked if I was Lisa Reagan, then in his deep voice he told me he was from the police, and ask if anyone was with me. I told him no. He said someone would be at my door within a few minutes and it would be a women officer, I asked what was happening; he said she would explain when she arrived. I went to phone home the line was busy, which was odd at this time of night.

I opened the door on the first knock and saw a sombre looking woman my age with a man standing behind her in uniform. That is when my life collapsed. They told me my parents and sisters had been murdered in their beds four hours ago. They thought it was a robbery gone badly. They said they were there to drive me home and said they would wait outside until I was ready.

On the drive, I asked questions they did not seem to know very much telling me the basics of what had transpired. They thought my dad had interrupted two men that had jimmied the back door, and when he appeared, they had stabbed him right in the neck. He died instantly. My mom must have heard the commotion from the bedroom and came down the stairs, seeing my dad lying there, she ran to him, and was stabbed in her back as she was bending over him. My two sisters slept through it all as the police found them still in their beds with their throats slit. Maybe that was a blessing for them not to have known what had happened to our parents.

 

I felt numb, as the police car stopped outside our home where I had been born. A police officer opened the door, helping me out holding my hand as I walked up the sidewalk dreading what would be inside. My family’s bodies already had been taken to the morgue, the police still lifting fingerprints throughout the house. Blood had soaked into the white carpet with scarlet droplets covering the walls. The large family picture in the entrance lay with the glass broken and frame in pieces. 

It was like a horror movie before me, I ran outside and threw up in my dads beautiful garden. They asked if they could call any of my relatives, or take me to their house. I gave them my aunts number and she was there quickly holding me tightly in her arms.

The church was full as our family was well known in the community. Standing room only, the only thing I remember was standing beside the grave, looking around noticing a man I did not recognize, wondering did he know all my family or who had he come to say goodbye to. The police had a heavy presence through the crowd, they said sometimes killers come to watch. The next time I looked up the man was gone. I mentioned this to the officer closest to me and he went to look. The man had disappeared.

My aunt arranged to have the carpets torn up and the walls painted, then we went in to pack all my memories in boxes, I told her to put the house up for sale, as I would never spend a night there. My uncle was constantly beside us both and helped sell all the furniture, I only kept pictures and keepsakes to go through when I felt I could deal with them.

The next year I was in a haze. At school I enrolled in marital arts and took up shooting, enjoying every lesson to the extent that my instructor said he was worried about me. I still graduated with top honors. Staying with my aunt and uncle for the summer, they had decorated one of their bedrooms for me.  The first purchase I made when I got home was to buy a gun, and would head out to practice in the woods to keep the skill up that I had attained. My uncle always came with me as he had retired that year and was at loose ends, him needing the company as much as I did.

I had sketched a picture of the man from the funeral and had given it to the police before I left to go back to school so decided to stop and see if they had anything new with the case of my family. To my surprise, they told me they had a lead the month before after another robbery. An older woman murdered in her bed who lived alone. A neighbor had seen two men in the area the day before, one looking much like my sketch. They were still looking for these men.  

The summer flew by and I had found an apartment near the hospital, I never gave up hope that the killers of my family would ultimately be found. I was working the late shift in emergency when a man was brought in with a bullet wound. I got the call and went to remove the bullet. 

As soon as I saw him, I recognized him as the man that I had seen at the funeral that I had sketched over a year ago. He was in pain, had been sedated, as he had lost a fair amount of blood and looked very ashen. His eyes dilated, it was not from the meds he had received at the hospital, when he saw me, his eyes widened, and his body started to shake. Was this the man who had killed my family? The nurse had the tray ready to remove the bullet.

I asked her if she could bring me a glass of water. I wanted this man alone. When she left, I took his arm and pushed down on where the bullet was, forcing his blood to spurt out, quietly telling him that I knew who he was and wanted the name of the other man who was with him the night my family had been slaughtered. Or his choice was to die during this night and I could make sure of that. He tried to resist my hold as I pushed harder into his wound. Screaming he gave up the name and I plunged a needle into his arm. He was immobile instantly. When the nurse returned, I told her to get the police here right away. I made sure this bullet hole would bother him for months as I sewed him up. But it was all very unsatisfying.

The police took him into custody. He was charged with the murder of my family. His fingerprints matched the ones found in the house. It would take three months before he came to trial. 

  

I wanted to deal myself with the name he had given me and found out where the man lived. I staked out his apartment every night that I did not work, his routine never varied from one day to the next. One night late, he came home, and by his walk, he was either high on drugs or drunk. I stood and blocked his entrance to his place, and I knew he recognized me. I pulled my gun from my pocket made him open his door.

His place was a dump, I told him to sit, looking around, I pulled on gloves. He started to snivel saying he was at the house but he did not kill anyone. But I knew that only his prints were found upstairs. He saw the vial I had removed from my jacket and his eyes showed horror. Thinking to myself, I was trained to save peoples lives, as I plunged the syringe of pure heroin into his arm. He was dead within minutes, much easier than the way my family was treated.

The news reported a man died from a drug overdose and was proven to be the second killer in the Reagan family murder. The other man is serving twenty years with no chance of parole. 

I did not have to fire my gun or use any of my martial arts, only my skills as a doctor of medicine.

 Starting to sleep at night.

First Freedom

My friend and I looked for the perfect place to move. This was the first time away from home for us both. We must have looked at twenty suites, most were over our budget or were dumps.  Beth phoned me excited. She had found the perfect place for us and had talked the property owner to come down to a reasonable rent. The bus route was just outside our door. She urged me to see it right away so he would not rent it to anyone else. 

Borrowing my mom’s car, I picked Beth up and off we went. It was small but clean, and had a large soaker tub. We both love to have candle-light bubble baths. And with the furniture we had scrounged from our parents we could make it look like our own. The owner had met us at the door. He was a large heavy man with horn-rimmed glasses, and beady eyes which looked us both over from top to bottom. 
I felt shivers run down my spine as he leered at Beth’s breasts, she was well endowed, me not so much. Beth was jubilant, signing the first months rent and the damage deposit, not even noticing this Machiavellian looking individual. He told us his rules; no noisy parties, rent on time, gave us two sets of keys, telling us he would keep a set in case of any emergencies.

We were settled in a couple of weeks, had our parents over to see the place, my dad being a policeman said he would bring over a better lock and install a chain on the door. Beth told him the owner would not like that, he had a key to our place. Relenting he said he would install a strong chain. 

The laundry room was beside the owner’s door and he always seemed to be around every time we went past to do our laundry. I noticed it first that some of my panties had gone missing. Asking Beth if she had them in her drawer by mistake, she said one of her bras had gone missing too. We both went and looked to see if we had mixed up our clean clothes. None had been misplaced.

Arriving home early from work one day I could smell a different odor as I opened the door. Someone had been in here, it was the owner’s cologne as he always wore it heavily. I knocked on his door and asked why he had been in our suite, taking him by surprise, he hesitated for a minute trying to figure out how I could know? He told me the toilet needed a new ball and he replaced it. I told him the next time he needed to enter our apartment to do it when one of us was home. His beady eyes showed annoyance, telling me as the owner he could check our place out when he deemed it necessary. 

Going upstairs I went on my computer to the residency act, he was supposed to give us twenty-four hours notice unless in an emergency. Frustrated I went to have a bath to unwind, taking a glass of wine with me. I sunk slowly into the tub. A quiver vibrated through my body, sensing something was not right. I just could not relax. I heard Beth arrive home. Telling her of my experience with the owner, she asked if maybe I was over reacting. I let it go and started to make a salad for dinner. 
Talking to my dad that night I told him what had happened. He said he would be over later to talk to that asshole. I pleaded saying maybe I had over reacted, to let it be for now.

Beth was not feeling well the next day so stayed home. When I came home, she lay curled up on the couch shaking. Thinking she was still not feeling well, she started to cry telling me that Harold the owner had come in while she was having a bath and came into the bathroom stared at her then left saying he was there to check if the toilet was working. She said he had a grin on his face as she told him to get out. 

I was ready to go confront Harold, but phoned my dad, he was there within ten minutes. He went downstairs and told Harold if he ever did this again, he would arrest him for aggravation or worse. Dad wanted us to move but we wanted our own place and knew we would not be able to find a place with the rent we were paying. Other than Harold, we loved the location and loved living here. We were sure that after my dad had warned him he would leave us alone. The next few weeks flew by without any problems. 
Or so we thought.

Beth had a date, she was excited and must have changed umpteen times as we waited for her date to arrive. I ran a bath, lighting all the candles, turning off the overhead lights. I chained the door after they left heading for my waiting bath.

Then I saw a small ray of light shinning above the shower, going closer, I spotted a hole had been bored into the plaster. He had been watching us, probably since we moved in, I was sure he was the one who had taken our underwear. I slowly left the bathroom as if I had forgotten something, heading to my drawer where my dad on his last visit had put a small caliber gun for our protection.
I slowly crawled into the bathroom. No light coming through the hole. He was watching right now, waiting for me to return and take off my bathrobe. I came to the hole from the side so he would not see me, inserting the gun at the hole, I pulled the trigger.
l heard a scream and a few seconds later a key being inserted in my door. Calling dad from the bathroom all I had time for was to say 911 at my place. 
The chain was holding, but the old door was splintering, Harold would be inside sooner than my dad would get here. He was raving like a lunatic, swearing calling me a bitch saying he would rape and kill me. I could hear his weight pushing against the door, his tone getting wilder, him yelling more despicable dialog as the wood started to creak under his weight. A large bang as the door exploded open, blood was streaming down his face, I could not see one of his ears. He started to lunge at me grabbing a lamp as he charged towards me. 

He stopped midstream, not knowing what to do when he saw me pull the gun from my bathrobe pocket and aim right at him.

He was not aware that my dad had taught me to shoot. Dad arrived telling me he would look after this, it was definitely a case of self-defense. We had moved out by the time Harold was released from hospital. No charges were ever laid.

I do not think he will be looking through peepholes or hearing that well from now on.