Love Is Murder by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Fiction, Suspense, Suspense Fiction; American, Thrillers, Short Stories
ISBN: 9780778313441
Google: 384E49bHr_8C
Amazon: 0778313441
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2012-05-29T05:00:00+00:00

LAST SHOT

Jon Land & Jeff Ayers

This is a be-careful-what-you-wish-for story that has just the right mix of eeriness and emotion. ~SB

“How long have you known me, Frank?” Molly Wagner asked the banker seated at the desk before her.

“We went to high school together, Molly.”

“Right. So you know when I promise something I mean it.”

Frank, fellow member of the Class of ’93, wrinkled his nose, the reflection of his bald scalp shining in the cubicle’s glass walls. “This is different. It’s corporate. My hands are tied by the policy.”

“Of throwing people out of their homes.”

“Only when they’re seriously delinquent on their mortgages.” He paused long enough to take a deep breath and fold his hands together on the blotter. “I’ve done everything I can.”

Molly started to speak, then stopped. She’d come up with folders full of financial proof she and her husband, Bob, would get through this, but there seemed no reason to produce them.

Frank rose, a clear sign it was time for Molly to take her leave. “You’ve still got a few months to get current. If you think of anything…”

“I will,” she said, rising. “I will think of something. And I’ll get another job. Maybe this place. I hear they may be hiring.”

Frank looked as if he found that funny. “Here? What makes you think you’re qualified?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

Molly left the bank with file folders tucked under arm, fighting back tears. It was over, done. Time to put their house on the market. No sense delaying the issue any further, so her next stop was the local Rexall to copy a picture of their home taken when upkeep had not been an issue. It had been a fixer-upper when they’d bought it, so she and Bob, no experts at home improvement, had slaved over manuals and videos, adding molding, fresh paint, refinished floors, railings—the list went on. Fifteen years of labor and unwise refinancing all about to go into the Dumpster.

Inside the Rexall, Molly located the photo scanner in the back and thumbed through a shoe box full of old photos, most taken when she and Bob had been mere kids and newlyweds before their son was even a thought. There were prom pictures and high school homecoming, Frank the banker with hair, the picture of which she promptly tore in two, the state college where Bob had proposed near a statue of the school’s bear mascot that creaked in the wind, Molly afraid the whole time the thing was going to fall on them. She flipped past wedding shots and baby pictures of Matthew, the family captured back when foreclosure was something that happened to other people.

She finally dug out a picture of a simple shot of her home taken before the fence posts had rotted out and the house paint had dulled and started to peel. Molly laid the shot on the glass and touched the scan button but nothing happened.

“Excuse me, could you help me out here?”

The photo clerk slid out from behind the counter where she’d been balancing her lunch.

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