Until the
day I die, I’ll never forget those glassy, unblinking eyes. She needed to die, plain and simple. She had known entirely too much and was
getting a little too free with sharing the knowledge. I couldn’t afford to have her blabbing my
business. It would cost me
everything. Not only that, a lot bigger heads would roll
if I were ever caught. It would be a
classic domino effect, and they would make sure I paid dearly with my life if
that ever happened. I should have never got involved with her in
the first place. Looking back now, I
know I simply couldn’t resist. She was
hot…and a piece of work. She had needed
the job, so I had hired her as a receptionist at the art gallery thinking at
the time she wasn’t too bright. Little
did I know that the beautiful bombshell actually did have a brain to go with
those sapphire eyes, long sexy legs, and amazing rack.
All of a sudden she starting putting 2
and 2 together, and lo and behold, it didn’t always add up to 4. We were exporting art overseas packed with
cartons lined with bags of the best cocaine money could buy. The shipments were worth millions. We packed it all in the best smelling coffee
grounds to throw the scent off so the drug hounds at customs wouldn’t get wise
to the operation. All was going like
clockwork until I decided to give in to lust and sleep with the bimbo. That is when everything started going south. I fancied myself falling for her. I found her intoxicating and my tongue
loosened up when she was around. Once
she figured out that my business didn’t only involve art, she got scared. A scared woman with too much explosive
knowledge can be dangerous. I had no
intention of going to prison for a loose tongued piece of ass no matter how
good it was.
So I killed her. We had been intimate, so I figured it was up
to me to get rid of her. A friend of the
boss owns the crematory in town and they wasted no time cremating her remains
and helping me clean up the mess. I
personally packed what was left of Bridget in a crate holding Albrecht Durer’s
painting of Oswalt Krel among this week’s shipment of coffee grounds and
drugs. My associates overseas would see
to it that her ashes were disposed of.
No one would ever have to know. As a stroke of luck, Bridget seemed alone in
the world so no one should come asking questions. If they do, I know nothing. Surprisingly, I have never killed anyone
before and never hope to again. It left
a bad taste in my mouth. However, if
they get in the way of business like the fair Bridget did I will be left with
no choice. After all, business is
business.
