DESIGNER ASSASSIN EXCERPT

There was a small thrill that came out of squeezing the trigger on my rifle, of seeing the bullet land exactly where I wanted it to go, defying the laws of physics while I made the weather my lover, not my enemy. I was good at my job, very good, and my clients paid handsomely for my services. 

My bullets never strayed, never missed, and were never found. Nothing could or would ever be traced back to me. Now, my clients, if they fucked up, that was on them. Not me. And if the world came crashing down around them, the police catching them, they couldn’t give anyone my name because I was an enigma, a shadow. The only person who ever knew my true identity was dead. 

“Mistress Black Sheep, have you any wool?” the laughing voice said into my earpiece. 

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Three body bags full. Such a shame. They bled all over the beautiful Italian marble. Can you make sure to clean that up while you’re at it?” 

“I’m a cleaner, not a maid,” he groused. I did so love taunting him, but he was the one who started it. I only knew him as Jeeves, which made my joke even funnier to me.

“Don’t touch the two men. Only clean the woman. She’s in a different room to prevent the blood from co-mingling. We need someone to take the fall for this, and we don’t want this coming back on the mistress. Do you have the documents I left for you?” 

“I do.”

“Leave them where they can be found, but don’t make it too easy for our police friends. They need to earn their paycheck.” 

His laugh was rich and deep. “Of course.” If he didn’t do his part, it was no skin off my nose. The wrong person might be implicated, but it wasn’t going to be me. 

The call disconnected, and I disassembled my gun, placing it back in its case. This job was done, and the next…well, I had a show to get ready for. 

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