Excerpt: The Mistake

Ferris crept quietly across the bedroom floor until he stood at the foot of bed. The room smelled of cigarettes and tequila. It seemed sometimes that he'd been in a thousand bedrooms like this one. A semi-naked woman lay sprawled on the bed, her lean thigh curled around a pink body pillow.

The black bow on the back of her lacy thong winked at him as she shifted slightly and muttered in her sleep. One rosy nipple peaked out from under her curved arm. All in all, Lori Talini was exactly what he expected.

He pulled the silencer from his pocket, screwed the end onto his gun and shot her twice, once in the heart and once in the head. Her body jerked slightly with the impact, her blood spraying across padded headboard.

He flipped open his disposable cell phone, punched the auto dial.

"It's done."

"There were no mistakes?"

Silence greeted the question.

"I suppose not. The second half of your payment will be in your account within in the hour."

"Good doing business with you."

"Did she..."

Ferris punched the phone off. His job was to solve problems, not provide entertainment.

He unscrewed the silencer, dropped it's warm cartridge in his pocket as he slipped the gun in his other pocket. A whimper broke the hushed silence of the house.

His shoulders stiffened and he turned to scan the dim room. Ferris watched the house for three days. The lady didn't have a dog. No one entered the house except for the mark. Another distant whimper echoed from the hallway. He slipped his rolled wire garrote out, his gloved fingers readying it with easy familiarity.

Silently, he eased down the hall, comfortable in the darkness, waiting for that next sound.

It came from the door next to the main bedroom.

Ferris stood the side of the door, gripped the knob, and then slung the door open quickly, waiting for someone to rush the open doorway.

A frightened squeak then nothing.

Although his muscles tensed but his heart remained steady as a metradome

A minute, two minutes, nothing happened.

From the open doorway, he could smell sweat and urine. Hear the soft inhalations of air.

"I know you're there."

No one replied.

If he hadn't already used the silencer, he'd spray the room with a few shots. But he didn't get to the top of his game by rushing blind into dark rooms. On the wall behind him hung a small, gold gilt mirror. Ferris lifted it from the wall and tossed it one-handed into through the open doorway.

No gun fired, only a strained gasp of breath before the mirror hit a wall and shattered.

Ferris took his pen light from the inside loop of his jacket. The narrow beam lit the pale wood of the floor as he entered. The narrow finger of light glittered over the glass shards, the bare walls. Then it slid over a bare mattress on the floor.

Then, a tiny bare foot.

"Fuck."