Ficly of two or two and a half times standard length. This one is about a mysterious character to is called in to help out an old friend who finds themselves in a bit of a predicament.

I was framed in the doorway to her living room, listening to her recount the incident. It was all bull. She hovered and brushed on the truth but kept saying things like, “He came at me, that son of a bitch.” I had this small three by five legal pad out and the pen was in my mouth while I scratched the back of my head and waited for her to be done. Had this been twenty years ago I might not have picked up on her nervous tells, but now I’d seen enough.

She paused and we looked down at the body on the rug and the big red stain. I looked over at her. No bruises, no sign of abuse. Either she was packing when he came at her, or her whole story was made up.

“You said this was your brother’s boyfriend?”

She nodded. I observed the room just a bit longer, turning the lights on and off, trying to see if anything would catch my eye. No dice, just a big fat guy with a bullet in his head lying on the Turkish rug in the center of the room. What a mess.

I turned to her, “This is gonna to run you three grand.”

She glanced over, a little bit surprised, but her face softened and she said, “But baby, what about for old times sake?”

I knocked her off. “Get out of here kiddo, the old times weren’t so damn long ago and they weren’t all that good then, and trust me, my opinion on them hasn’t changed.”

She pouted, “Well come on, now. You used to by the five grand man! Five for a hit, two for cleanup. Why jack up your prices now?”

“It’s a deal for an old friend.”

“You’re charging me more?” she asked incredulously.

“Yea tuts, and if you want it you better take it. Did I mention that I don’t do murders?” She looked like she was about to explain, again, that it was in self defense, but I cut her off. “I only do cleanup now, that way the only blood that’s on my hands is the literal type.”

“Is this how you treat all your old partners?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. My other partners didn’t leave me when things got tough, and you know what? My old partners kept me out of jail. Now if you want to do this job yourself, be my guest. Three grand, take it or leave it.”

The broad looked at me. The corpse on the floor looked at me. Everything in the room seemed to stare.

She sighed with exasperation, and I turned on my heel and walked towards the front door. She hissed at me:

“Where are you going?”

I tied the belt around the waist on my coat and opened the front door.

“I’m keeping my last shred of dignity.” A cold wind forced itself inside my nose. “See you around.”

Originally on Ficly:

Part One: http://ficly.com/stories/16970

Part Two: http://ficly.com/stories/16971

Part Three: http://ficly.com/stories/16972