Ficlets

Delivering the Package

I watched their lawyer leave in his expensive black Jaguar. I had arrived back from my ‘meeting’ with that bum and gotten a shower and lunch at the diner near my motel. By the time I’d eaten and gotten back to Harmony Waye, that Jaguar was there.

I waited a few minutes, letting their confidence build, before I walked up to their house with my delivery. The man opened the door and frowned at me. “Can I help you?” he grumbled. Very unfriendly this time. Maybe their lawyer gave them bad news, or maybe he just hates me.

“I have some documents.”
“Our lawyer just left. But I’ll fax them to him.” He took the envelope.

I chuckled, as if emphasizing lawyer like that was a threat. Puh-lease.

“Good night,” I offered, still amused.
“Hmm.”

Well, that went well. I’ve been on shadier jobs that were far less pleasant; getting knives thrown at me as I left, dodging punches, or even bullets.

I called the boss from my car. “Package is delivered.”
“Good. And it went well?”
“Excellent.”
“Good. I’ll pay your handlers fee.”

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