Page 26 of Ignite

The man pulled the hoses out and plugged the holes, disguising them thoroughly so they couldn’t be found.

“Are you done?” The screech came from the back room and grated on his ears. If there was any leeway in this assignment, there would be a second body in this building tonight.

“Yes, ma’am.” He loaded the tanks onto a rolling cart and stood with a slight bend in his back, letting his puffed-out gut hang over his pants. “Oh, the older I get, the more I want to retire.”

The artist strolled back into the main living area and examined her fingernails. The worker’s inflection was odd, but she really didn’t care. “Please just don’t talk and finish soon, okay?”

He smiled, showing stained teeth, and she cringed as a sudden frisson of fear traveled her spine. He reached up and scratched at a scar just in front of his left ear. “I’m done. Have a nice day.”

Ten minutes later, all four tanks and his toolboxes were secured in the wagon, and the man was wheeling them away. The artist closed the door and wrinkled her nose at the sour scent that followed him.

Bathing should be a requirement,she thought as she readied her paints and opened her windows wider to air out her apartment.

14

“Yes,ma’am, you will have to go to the CVS and get four gift cards in the amount of one thousand dollars each. You must pay this fine, or the IRS will come to arrest you.”

Jazz rolled her eyes before answering. “The CVS is all the way on the other side of town. Cain’t I just go to my bank? It’s a lot closer for me to walk. Uphill. Both ways.”

Today, her voice modulator was set to her favorite old lady voice speaking with a thick Southern accent.

“No, you can’t go to your bank. This is the SSN, ma’am. Please do as I say and go to the CVS. The police are on their way right now.”

Jazz continued to type. “My knees have been givin’ me so much trouble lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but we need to get this debt paid or else you will go to jail.”

“I’ll call my grandson to come get me.”

“No, ma’am, you must go yourself. Don’t tell anyone what you’re doing.”

Ha. Gotcha.“Give up, Sparky. Check your screen.”

Jazz didn’t bother to hear the shocked dismay of the scammer as she erased not only his computer but crippled his entire operating system. It had been quite some time since she’d taken anyone down, and tonight she’d gotten several of them in a row. Nothing like the big one she did a month or so ago. She’d been staying away from the bigger call centers, but it was still satisfying to stop whoever she could from harming anyone else.

She leaned back in her desk chair and ran her hands over her tired face. Between the bakery and the database job, she pulled roughly seventy-odd working hours per week, and it was starting to show. Wolf came to the bakery in the mornings and worked with her when possible. He did the register and treats until Madge came to take over for a few hours. Then he visited Bill in the afternoons, napping there until he had to go to work at Attic. Her schedule was similar. She slept when she had a chance, but the catnaps she usually took weren’t enough anymore, and fatigue was catching up with her. Not once during their many hours together had he brought up the kiss he gave her in front of her parents’ house.

Nor had he repeated it.

Of course she’d also become completely self-conscious and tongue-tied around him. Would she appear flirty if she talked to him or desperate? Or pathetic? Did he like her or just find her amusing? The pretend boyfriend/girlfriend thing was a cute little trope for a cheap romance movie, but in real life, that sort of thing didn’t really happen, right?

She sighed as she stretched her arms over her head and several bones cracked in her neck and spine. How much longer could she keep up this schedule? Something had to give, and soon.

A message popped up on her screen.

Copperpot100: You hear from Bomber123? He’s been dark for a while.

Jazzyhands: No, I haven’t.

Copperpot100: He’s always online between 8:00 p.m. and midnight every night like clockwork for years. He hasn’t been on in a week.

Jazzyhands: Maybe he’s on vay-cay?

Copperpot100: He doesn’t take vacations.

That was true. Bomber123 was so regular in his hours, it was almost like punching a time card into a job.

Jazzyhands: Maybe he’s sick?

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