Lucid Waking

Archive for February 3rd, 2010

Back-up Plan

        She checked her watch. If dancing and the necessity of quick costume changes had taught her anything, it was changing clothes fast. She was particularly pleased with the thirty seconds it took her to change into an almost entirely new person.
        She walked out the stage door and then took her time to saunter to her car. After doing an entire show, her feet hurt to walk in heels, but the image had to stand before her comfort. Once she was in the safety of her car, she pulled out a scrap of paper from the glove compartment and memorized the address. Then, she rolled it up into a ball and flicked it to the floor of the passenger’s side before turning up the radio and pulling into traffic.
        She loved Chicago traffic; it was much more natural than New York’s. She arrived at her destination in no time (fifteen minutes ahead of schedule) and remained in the car applying a more natural amount of make-up until a man in a dark suit walked past her car and through the gate of the apartment building in front of her. She got out and walked up to him.
        “Mr. Tillens?” she said sweetly.
        He turned around quickly. “Yes?”
        “Hi, I’m Elizabeth Kennedy,” she lied, extending her hand, “we spoke on the phone?”
        “Oh yes,” he answered nervously. “I guess you can just follow me.”
        “I’m sorry I didn’t buzz your apartment but I arrived early.”
        “That’s all right.”
        He led her up a few flights of stairs, into his hallway and then to the kitchen where they both sat down across from each other.
        “Well, Mr. Tillens—”
        “Mark is fine.”
        “Mark, I called following up a business proposition you received. You see,” she said pulling out a gun from her purse. “your blackmailer was getting impatient with the rate at which you paid your bills and I’m afraid that you had your last warning.”
        She shot the gun and with the silencer managed to make just enough noise to imitate something falling to the floor. She went through the cupboards until she found the pots and pans and moved them around noisily as if someone was pulling them out to cook. Then she found her way to the door and let herself out to where her car was waiting on the street.
        It wasn’t glamorous work, but it paid the bills and it would certainly still support her when she was washed out from dancing. It always helped to have an insurance plan.

Author’s comments on post 347: I have such a busy week that I wrote this late last night and just got time to publish it now. I’m hoping to get in ten minutes before I go to sleep tonight and publish that tomorrow. A bientot!