The Assassin
Isn’t this cute? I thought as I parked on the street where my new target lived.
All of the homes spread along the block were painted in modest variations of white with colorful shutters and roofs.
Homemade sculptures and cushioned chairs decorated the porches.
Welcome signs lay beside some of the wooden doors, and others hung wreaths in front of them.
In the middle of the afternoon, most of the driveways were vacant.
A few teenagers walked down the sidewalk with their backpacks and earbuds.
They barely spared a glance at my van, now disguised with a faux security system logo across the side.
Inside, I wore my own uniform, posing as a security technician.
Being in character was part of the routine.
We needed to blend in to prevent any suspicion. Even if there wasn’t anyone around.
I grabbed the laptop off of the passenger seat and popped it open.
Before Maria left for her boyfriend’s house earlier, she hacked into my target’s security system and gave me access to the cameras and the functions.
She was also able to get me the woman’s personal file. I’d read it before I drove down here.
One of the few things that stuck out was her name.
Simone.
Beautiful and fierce, it fit her perfectly. I almost couldn’t wait to see her again so I could better match the name to her face.
The other was her long line of educational credentials.
She graduated in the top ten percent of her high school class.
Graduated college with degrees in criminology and psychology at Howard University.
Went on to attain a Juris Doctor degree from University of Virginia.
Passed the bar exam barely a month later.
The woman was following the yellow brick road towards the courtroom. How’d she end up in the FBI?
I doubted her home would give me an answer to that, but I was curious to see what else it might tell me.
With a click of a button, I unleashed the bug on Simone’s security system. I watched the screen mirroring the one inside her home scramble for a moment before settling in bold green letters.
Disarmed.
I was good to go.
Pulling my cap down as low as I could to hide my face, I stepped out of the van and walked a few meters down the street towards her home.
I jogged up the porch steps and let myself in with the universal key one of Ares’ other men made.
The distinct scents of birch woods, vanilla, and plum wafted through my nose as I slipped inside. I glanced around the long hallway in front of me.
Embroidered auburn flowers and burnt orange leaves cascaded down the long, black carpet covering the brown hardwood floor.
At the end, there was a doorway leading in what I assumed was the kitchen.
From where I stood, the light from the window illuminated the sink and corner of the stove.
To the left of the hallway, a few feet behind a row of hooks where coats hung, was a stairwell leading to the upper level of the floor.
To the right, a doorway with a round arch led into a carpeted room.
I took the path to the right and found myself in her living room.
At the curved end of the room, three large windows came together to shine light into the room, illuminating the brown carpets and golden walls.
Beside the window was a large sofa chair with a blanket thrown over the arm.
A small coffee table lay next to it with a single, unlit candle and a copy of the novel, All the Sinners Bleed by S.A.
Cosby, atop it. A bookmark was nudged in the middle of the book and orange tabs peeked out the edges of the pages.
On the opposite side of the living room, there was a sectional couch, a larger coffee table, and a television screen attached to the wall. Near the doorway on the other side of the room, another small table held a handful of picture frames.
As I peered over them, I spotted various versions of Simone’s face.
Small and chubby with pigtails and a tutu in the arms of a smiling man who shared her smile.
Thinner and more refined in a sparkling gold dress with her arms around another woman with bronze skin and loose curls in a matching outfit.
Mature and painted with makeup as she stood with a graduation cap on her head, a degree in her hands, and an older man with a proud smile beside her.
This man was different than the first one, but shared the same pride in his smile.
The last resembled the woman I’d seen the other night with long braids and fire in her eyes, this time candidly laughing with a curly-haired man with tattoos decorating his arms.
Strange, I thought. There was none of her and her mother.
Moving away from the photos, I made my way into the dining room. There wasn’t much to see besides the long wooden table and some decorative photos of steaming coffee and fresh breads.
After passing through the kitchen, I found myself back in the hallway and headed up the stairs.
There weren’t many photos decorating the walls.
Even the paintings were slim to none. In their place were floral decals traveling up the stairwell and blowing through the invisible wind of the upstairs hall.
Lilies and carnations mostly, in a mix of red and white.
It almost reminded me of blood splatter.
On the upper level, two out of the four rooms were practically empty, occupied only with small beds and drawers for guests. One of the rooms was a makeshift office, complete with a wooden desk, Macbook, rolling chair, and a bookcase filled to the brim.
Glancing across the titles, I spotted a few familiar authors. More S.A. Cosby. Octavia Grant. Alyssa Cole. Nekesa Afia. Thrillers must be her thing.
The lower half of the bookshelf was filled with law and psychology textbooks. The edges looked worn and the color on the covers were beginning to fade.
I left the office to scope out her bedroom.
Similar to the other rooms, this one was decked out in autumn colors of auburn, golden yellow, and burnt oranges.
A chestnut vanity dresser was pressed against the wall near the door.
An abundance of hair products, combs of varying sizes, wooden jewelry boxes and small colony of perfumes were neatly organized atop it.
Against the far wall was a queen sized bed, and parallel to it on the other wall were two large dressers.
A closet with a full length mirror lay closer to the other side of the room.
I noticed more photos shoved into the corners of the vanity mirror.
Most of them were stills from photo booths.
Each frame showed her with either a wide smile or a goofy expression.
While a few featured the same light-skinned woman she shared a dress with in the photo downstairs, the man with the tattoos appeared in the others, with his arms around her or her on his lap, but not kissing.
Interesting. She didn’t have a boyfriend?
A woman as beautiful and ambitious as her surely had some idiot following her around with his tongue hanging out his mouth. Where was she hiding those photos of him?
I needed some kind of bait to lure her out from her fortress.
The other woman would have to do. She and Simone may not look related, but obviously they had some kind of bond. But was it a bond Simone would risk her life over? That was the question. I wasn’t going to waste my time if Simone wasn’t going to come running.
A flash of red caught my eye as I did another cursory glance over the vanity. It was peeking out from a crack in one of the drawers.
Raising a brow, I used my gloved hand to pull it open.
Inside lay a folded American flag.
Oh, the thought raced through my mind before I could catch it. Was this what deterred her from the courthouse?
I shook my head at the empathy threatening to tug at my chest.
No, no, no. I was asking too many questions about this woman’s life and not enough about her death. None of this shit was going to help me kill her. That’s the information I came here for. Not whatever sob story she had lying behind her fierce eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I shoved the drawer closed.
I moved away from the vanity in search of any other indicators of Simone’s personal life.
But, I didn’t see any other pictures or sentimental objects around the room.
Her inner circle is either extremely small or there were parts of her personal life that were best kept secret.
In her line of profession, I couldn’t blame her.
After all, here I was, hell bent on looking for her weakness.
Who knows what others came through here looking for the same.
“Door open,” the automated system chimed from downstairs. Soft footsteps followed the sound, and Simone’s voice cut through the silence.
“I know!” She exclaimed. “It’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard!”
Shit, I thought as her steps came towards the stairwell. She was supposed to be at work. I saw her leave through the door cams with a backpack around eight a.m. this morning. I thought she wouldn’t be home until at least five or six.
Thinking fast, I rushed into the closet and closed it, leaving a minuscule crack to peek through. The moment I had an opening, I needed to get the fuck out of here.
Just as I hid, Simone stormed into the room. The daylight illuminated her ebony brown skin, glistening with sweat. Her long, black braids were pulled up into a high ponytail. The straight ends waved back and forth as she walked.
She tore the phone away from her ear, pressed a button on the screen and threw it on the bed. “Is he sure there’s absolutely nothing he can do?” A man’s voice came out of the speaker.
“He said he’ll talk to the higher-ups about it, but he doubts they’ll green light a case for it.” She sighed in frustration as she pulled her tee shirt up over her head. Underneath, a gray sports bra held up her perfectly round breasts. “I’m just going to take on the case in my downtime.”
“Simone, you cannot take on a hitman alone.”
“Well, what else am I supposed to do? Let him kill again? There are consequences for murder - even if the victim was a scumbag.”
“Yeah, I know. But, it’s too risky for you to do this by yourself. And Cooper will be pissed when he finds out.”
“He won’t,” she insisted. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her pants and slid them down her long, toned legs. “Not until I bring the bastard in with cuffs.”
I almost smiled. Isn’t she adorable? She thinks she can lock me up.
“Then I’m helping you,” the man said. “I don’t like the thought of you chasing this guy without backup. You’ve already gotten a taste of what he’s capable of. He could really hurt you.”
“I’m not worried,” she replied. “But, I will take you up on backup. I’m going to be up to my nose in case files trying to find more patterns.”
“I’ll come over Sunday night and go through them with you. I’ll bring dinner - and liquor. We’re going to need it.”
She grinned. “Have I mentioned that I love you lately?”
He chuckled. “I love you too. Get some rest, alright? Enjoy your unplanned vacation.”
“I’ll try. Bye!” She pressed another button on her phone and the room was silent again. Simone stood there for a moment, half naked, pondering over a thought in her head.
I couldn’t help but stare at her for those few seconds. I’m a professional, but I’m still a man. I’ll never deny the chance to admire such a beautiful woman.
From my spot in the closet, I could see the outline of Simone’s curves perfectly. Her long torso, wide hips, and thick thighs gave her a perfect hourglass shape. When she turned around to head to the door, I caught a glimpse of her round ass cheeks, jiggling softly with every step.
It was a damn shame I had to kill her. Had the circumstances been different, I might’ve had a different kind of fun with her.
I watched her wander out of the room and heard another door close. The soft patter of water hitting porcelain shortly followed.
As easy as it would’ve been to kill her in the shower, her death would seem suspicious now that I know she’s setting her sights on me.
I needed to make her death look as coincidental as possible to avoid any speculation it was connected to the other night.
How I was going to make that happen, I wasn’t sure yet.
But, as I sneaked back through her house and slipped out the door, I knew carrying it out was going to be fun.