Chapter 1
She watched his eyes as he set the glass in front of her. Its unadorned sides revealed clear liquid. No ice.
“Kill anyone today?” he asked, filling a bowl of peanuts and placing it beside her drink.
“Not yet. Got anyone you want taken care of?” she asked, sipping the lukewarm water.
She waited as he scanned the room. The bar wasn’t busy today, which allowed him time to carefully consider his answer.
“See that man over there? The one in the blue shirt?”
She twirled the glass on its coaster, waiting for him to continue. The man in question wore a deep navy suit, starched powder blue shirt, and a conservative burgundy necktie. He loosened his tie as she appraised him. Tall, but not in an awkward way. Broad in the shoulders, suggesting he worked out regularly. His brown hair appeared thick but well tamed. She assumed weekly barber appointments kept it under control.
“Blue eyes?”
Jack nodded. “He’s a regular. Comes in about once a month. Orders the same thing.”
“He definitely deserves to die.”
“You probably need more of a reason than that. Having a drink preference isn’t a strong motivation to kill someone.” Jack wiped the bar and smiled at the man. “I’ll be right back.”
While Jack listened to Blue Shirt’s final words, her eyes surveyed the other customers at the bar. Her head didn’t move. Her chin remained aligned with her chest. But she took in everything. The man loosening his tie had lost a client today and was too depressed to drive home. A woman wearing a silk shirt with a tailored navy pant suit made cooing noises into her phone. Working mothers had it the worst. She’d never murder a working mother. But the man shifting in his seat and wiping the sweat from his brow looked like he’d done something worthy of severe punishment. And she was just the person to free him from his guilt.
Jack returned with a refill in his hand. “He’s not your mark. But he could be the father of your future children,” he added with a wink.
“Do I look like the maternal type?”
“No, but you’re going to be late if you don’t get to your gate. Have a nice flight.”
She downed the second glass of water in one gulp and stood. “Thanks.”
As she made her way to the gate, her brain continued to observe and catalog every face and action around her. Most of them struck her as normal, so ordinary. She had no desire to dilute her reputation by killing such easy marks.
With a sigh, she approached the gate. The airline employee ushered her down the ramp. Waiting in lines never bothered her. As an avid people watcher, lines provided amazing opportunities to study human nature. But since she was a regular on this flight, the employees showed her preferential treatment. Why not take advantage of that?
Heidi smiled at the flight attendant, whose name tag said “Sara,” as she placed her right foot onto the plane.
“It’s good to see you,” Sara said, returning her smile. “I saw your name on the flight manifest. Do you have anything you need stored today? Anything that needs special handling?”
She handed a simple leather satchel with complicated locks to the attendant without a word. The people behind her were no doubt listening, and the stewardess had more important things to do than chat about the contents of the bag. Continuing down the aisle, she found her seat, stowed her purse under the chair in front of her, and secured her seatbelt. The model passenger.
A few minutes later, Sara returned and motioned her to follow. As Heidi settled into a first-class lounger, Sara said, “Even if the airlines didn’t approve of upgrading customers when we have vacant seats, I’d still do it for you. Tell me quick. Before I have to teach Safety 101. Did you kill anyone today?”
“Not yet. Got anyone you want taken care of?” she asked, accepting the glass of water, no ice.
“The guy in 32B looked down my blouse.”
“You know I can’t take care of that until we land.”
“Right. No escape route once we’re in the air,” Sara nodded. “I understand.”
“Too much blood,” Heidi added, sipping the drink.
“So you do shoot them!” Sara’s eyes doubled in size. “I always wondered but was afraid to ask.”
She stared out the window, watching the ground crew prepare for departure. “Guns and knives create a bloody mess. And bullets are traceable. There are cleaner ways.”
“Like what?” Sara leaned in closer.
She turned back toward the chatty stewardess, handed her the empty glass, and said, “Can I get a refill, please?”
“Sorry. I forgot. Too many questions. I’ll be right back.”
After Sara retreated, she covered her window and retrieved a journal from her backpack-styled purse. The length of the flight provided ample time to make notes and develop a plan. With no viable marks in the queue, Heidi needed to consider a new occupation soon.
