A Woman's Work Is Never Done by Camille Hayley

Author:Camille, Hayley [Camille, Hayley]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Fantasy
Publisher: SpearPoint Press
Published: 2016-11-09T06:00:00+00:00

Betty blinked, refocusing on the task at hand. A man was sprawled on the ground in front of her, boxes of amphetamines piled high against the wall and paper blocks of heroin spilled across the bench. Her white gabardine heel was pressed firmly to his pink neck as he struggled for breath against the checkerboard linoleum. Barely a moment had passed.

Why? Came Johnny’s silent pleas again.

Betty looked at him, fluttering her thick lashes and pursing her red lips before she answered.

“Because darling, you’re killing the American dream. My dream, that is.” With a swift twist of her ankle, she broke his neck.

“Get back, lady! I don’t want no trouble,” came a voice from behind her. Betty turned slowly. The second doper was on his knees holding a shaking gun, pointed directly at her heart. Each thigh still bore a knife imbedded within it.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Betty added three more knives to his collection. He crumpled to the floor.

Plumping her hair and stepping over the bodies, Betty returned to the front door to retrieve her crocodile skin bag. She emptied each packet of heroin into a decorative glass jar meant for bath salts. She filled her bejeweled vitamin jars with bennies, then packed it all carefully under the false base of her bag. She layered the stash with her beloved cosmetics then dusted off her gloved hands.

Betty leant back against the sink, assessing the crates of bennies stacked against the kitchen wall. It was as she’d expected; too much to take home. They were large crates, each one enough for a single set of arms. Undeterred, Betty carried them out, three at once. She stamped down hard, dislodging a plank of wood from the front porch steps and ripped it from its place. She set it across the back tray of her bicycle, then strapped every crate to it in a pile, leaving the house empty but for its dead occupants and their incriminating white mess upon the bench. Betty popped her Avon bag into the front basket of her bicycle, balancing the apple she had brought with her on top. The enormous pyramid of crates wobbled behind Betty as she pedaled away. Her mouth twisted into a wry smile as she set off for a place to stash her cargo. Under a sliver of moon barely light enough to see by, she zipped down back streets and alleys before skimming the shadowy edges of Central Park. She was fast enough and it was dark enough, that prying eyes wouldn’t find her. Except of course, for old Herb, the tramp that slept on a bench not far from her destination. He sat up as she passed, mouth agape, with a paper-bagged bottle in his hand. Betty grinned, tossing the apple over her shoulder, smiling at the sound of a crunch as it landed between his open teeth, just as she’d intended.

“‘Night Herb,” she called as she rode away. Her destination was close now, and Betty slowed at a wire gate, passed through, then skidded to a stop outside an old tinkers’ shop.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.