hey, I have… something… on my desk right now. Big pay. It’ll probably be tomorrow. A little unusual. The victim is a whole group of people this time. You’ll have to adapt to whatever the reaction is but you’re good at improv. If anyone could pull this off…”
She didn’t like the sound of this. He was stalling.
“What is it?”
“A singing telegram.”
“And?”
“You show up big and pregnant in front of this group. You look low class, dance for the client, shimmy…” she could hear him swallow, “… at him. And sing, ‘You Made Me Love You.’”
“Okay, it’s a comedy gig.”
He was silent for a moment. “It’s in front of the client’s family.” He was still stalling.
“Phil, you know I don’t do stripping. Call Jen if that’s what—”
“No, no, Minty, I know that. It’s just a little unusual, is all.”
“Spit it out.”
“The client is dead.”
“What?”
“Yeah… uh… he arranged this, just before he croaked.”
“Dead?!”
“He had a reputation for playing gags. Family always loved it. So he wanted to play a little joke to lighten things up at his funeral.”
“You want me to do a comic shimmy to a dead guy?!”
“He pre-paid!”
She yelled, “Are you out of your mind?!”
“Ten minutes and you’re out of there, collect five hundred bucks! That’s three times the usual cut!”
“You’re the king of taste, you know that?”
“C’mon, Minty, you kind of owe me one.”
“For what? I’ve been loyal and—”
“You no-showed—”
“I did not!”
“Technically, no. But in spirit?”
“Phil!”
“You no-showed and you need a chance to make it up to me. You know, feel good about yourself again.”
“You know I hate you, right? You do know that?”
His Boston street voice softened. “Think of his poor family. He arranged this for them. To give them one last laugh. Help them get through a tough time.”
“Damn it, Phil!” she wailed. She felt herself caving in. And she knew that Phil knew. Watch out.
“Minty, have a heart.”
“One thousand dollars.”
“What?!” he screamed.
“Think of his family, Phil.”
She heard something slamming down on his desk three times as he sputtered unintelligible words, and then went silent. She added, “The body is not getting any fresher.”
After a moment, he snarled, “You won’t back out?”
I need the money. “I’ll be there.”
He grumbled. “Fine. His name was Eddie Willet. I’ll send the details as soon as I have them.” He hung up on her.
She knew it. She figured the client must have offered to pay a hell of a lot for such an uncomfortable job. Otherwise, Phil never would have agreed to her demand of one thousand dollars. He would have growled and hung onto his cut like it was the last dog bone on earth. She let her phone drop into her lap and rubbed her temples.
All that was left to do, was to look in the box.
Chapter Nine
She got up and went to the window, looking down into the parking lot. Everything looked quiet. A few cars driving normal speed passed by on the street in front of the apartment building. Now that the time had finally come to face whatever was in the box, she delayed. She was afraid that something was about to change forever. She had grown up and stopped playing in the tool shed, but the secrets that were safely hidden in there were ready to come out. She closed the window and drew the blinds shut. Tearing off her sad and dirty fairy godmother costume, she threw it over to the couch where it landed on top of unpacked boxes. In bra and panties she went over to her sink and drank water from her faucet. She was dehydrated and starving and the water felt wonderful going down her throat. But food would have to wait. She didn’t know how upsetting the contents of the box were going to be, so she’d rather not have food in her stomach.
She sat on the floor next to the box, and opened it.
The hinges creaked and complained as she lifted the lid and looked