2 The Housewife Assassin's Guide to Gracious Killing by Josie Brown

Author:Josie Brown [Brown, Josie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Signal Press
Published: 2012-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

“Your daughter has put our honored guest’s visit into a tailspin,” Jonas Breck murmurs to me just as our dessert, strawberry dumplings, is being served.

Up until now, he’d been ignoring me, despite having me seated to his right during our sumptuous dinner. Instead, he’s been trading asides with the South Korean defense minister, leaving me to swap pleasantries with some third-world dictator cursed with bad breath from an abscessed tooth. When this Idi Amin wannabe mentions he’s having oral surgery here in Los Angeles, I wonder if he’ll balk at the price tag. Then I remember he personally pockets all the aid money the United States sends his country. That should more than cover the bill.

Asimov sits to Babette’s right, and Jack to her left. Carl stands against the wall, directly behind Asimov. Three others in his security detail are covering doors that go in and out of the grand dining salon.

One servant may not yet know it, but he’s certainly on Carl’s radar. He hesitates every time he serves Asimov. Just now, when Asimov declares he’ll be tossing every activist in Russia into his country’s newest state-of-the-art prison (“It’s like your Gitmo, but with an arctic ambiance as opposed to a tropical one,” he proclaims with a laugh), the butler, a surfer blond dude with a slacker tan and obviously not well-trained in butler etiquette, lost what little cool he possesses, and dropped a champagne glass on the marble floor. When it shattered, all eyes turned toward him.

Carl’s nod to one of his goons does not bode well for the boy.

When Carl is not watching the comings and goings of the servants, he glares at me. I’m sure he’s angry about the divorce papers, but too bad. I just hope Bulldog doesn’t become the very first name on Hilldale Police Department’s Missing Persons roster.

Between Carl’s steady gaze and my proximity to Breck, any appetite I may have had for anything, let alone strawberry dumplings, is long gone.

Still, if Breck supposes his statement will get a rise out of me, he’s wrong. Instead, I give him a pleased smile. “She’s not afraid to stand up for herself, or for others. I’m very proud of her.”

“Mary is naïve about the world. In countries like Asimov’s, if a girl doesn’t fall into line and do as she’s told, she’ll be put into prison, where they’ll break her spirit.” He examines his hand as he flexes it. “Albeit, the pretty ones like her are sold to someone who can do so without harming the charms of their flesh. It’s an interesting process. I’ve seen it done firsthand.”

“Sex slavery is ‘interesting?’ I can think of better descriptions: Vile. Sick. Reprehensible. And that’s just off the top of my head.”

Breck laughs. “I hope you show more discretion than your daughter in broaching that particular topic with Asimov. It’s one of his country’s greatest exports.” He shrugs. “There’s big bucks to be had in flesh peddling. Granted, it’s time consuming, but one can imagine the sense

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