the back of it has seen more bleach than a blonde’s head.
He nodded and flipped a switch so whoever was on patrol wouldn’t hear him talking to me. “How’d she sound?”
If she was panicking, I’d need someone else to help with body disposal. It usually takes two people to get rid of the bodies and their vehicle. Also, if she was going to fall apart because she’d killed someone, then she couldn’t know where the bodies were taken.
“Sounded solid. I’ll make a determination on site.”
Another nod. “Let me know if you need help.”
“My phone’s home. I have a burner with the app running.”
I wore a ballcap on the way to her apartment, and took a route without traffic cams. I didn’t for sure know why I was going, but it’s always good to cover your tracks if you’re headed to do something illegal.
There were no parking spaces open near her apartment, but her car backed out as I neared, and I backed into the slot. She parked nearly a football field away in the next closest empty spot. She wore jeans, sneakers, and an oversized black hoodie, pulled up to hide her long dark-blonde hair. I smelled a gun on her, but I didn’t see it.
If she had the presence of mind to park me close to her apartment, she was probably in good enough shape I didn’t need to call another brother for help.
Neither of us spoke until we were in her living room. Two dead bodies. I was impressed that she’d started with the garbage bags. She’d not only killed them, she’d tried to handle disposal on her own as well.
“They broke in and were stealing my shit.”
I shook my head and pulled a signal blocking sleeve from the pocket of my hoodie. “Phone?”
She went to her bedroom, returned with it, and I put it into the sleeve. “Anything else voice activated? Television, remote, Alexa, Google?”
She looked at the TV leaned against the wall near the door. “It’s unplugged.”
I looked at the body near me, sniffed towards the other one, and walked into the kitchen to take a closer look.
“Castle doctrine says you can use deadly force for people inside your home. We can call the cops and you might get hassled a little, but you won’t be arrested.”
“No cops. They were in my business for weeks when I had nothing to do with a death.” She sighed. “Plus, I didn’t kill the guy in the kitchen with the first strike, so I hit him some more, after the fact. I don’t know if they’ll be able to figure that out or not.”
I felt my eyebrows go up, and I met her gaze.
She crossed her arms and didn’t look away or down. “I’d killed one of them already, so the second one had to die, too. I’m not dealing with the cops when dead bodies are involved. I’m just not.”
“Okay. No cops. What did you use?”
“My cast iron skillet, and I know you’re supposed to get rid of the weapon, but I won’t. It was my great grandmother’s skillet. No soap and water. No bleach. I’m not messing with the seasoning. I was able to take what would fit into my backpack with me when I left home. Not much made the grade, but that pan did. I’m keeping it.”
“I’m assuming the bottom of the skillet made contact, not the inside?”
She put her hands on her hips and it made me want to kiss her until she melted.
“Yeah. Okay,” she said. “Maybe a good salt scrub, some time in the oven, and then a good re-seasoning?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Maybe oil on the bottom and burn it off with a flame before the salt scrub and re-seasoning. Velvet might have some ideas, too. Do you know who these guys are?”
“They have ID. Address is a few streets over. Same address. Same last name. Forty-eight and twenty-three. I’m guessing father and son.” She nodded to two wallets on the coffee table, and I looked at her hands. She was wearing clear gloves.
“When did you put the gloves on?”
“Before I handled either body or the garbage bags.”
Is there anything sexier than a kick-ass kitty-cat who handles her problems and keeps her head? She only needed me to help with taking out the garbage after the fact.
I had her sit on her sofa before I opened my backpack and lined the items we’d need on her coffee table beside the wallets. Heavy-duty extra-large garbage bags. Thick rubber gloves. Bleach. I’d