Venture, Georgia? Where the hell is that?
On the wall, he studied the map locating the small college town in southern Georgia right below Valdosta. What have you done Shanice? He asked himself aloud. He read the sheet again.
Shanice Olleh, Venture, Georgia, Roxy Books, Comics, and More.
$50k. Proof of project completion with photo important!
Some man wanted a problem solved. Whoever he was, also wanted a photo. This was personal. He learned over the years the difference between when a former lover wanted an issue handled and when a businessman wanted to barrel over the little guy. Requesting a photo was some sick bastard’s way of needing proof that his former lover wasn’t enjoying her life without him in it.
It seemed off.
He looked at her photo again.
Venture, Georgia?
Questions started popping up in his head, which was always dangerous. Take the job or leave the job Man. Nothing else. Instead, he picked up the receiver on the fax machine and dialed the home office. Beauty Kurtzwilde answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey Man,” Beauty said into the line.
“Got an order for a new job. Did the order come from the same town?” He wanted to know.
“No, it didn’t. It came from Charleston,” Beauty told him. “The client added extra money as a bonus to the vendor if the teeth could be removed and fingerprints burned off. He also wanted proof.”
Yep. This was extremely personal.
“I’m on it. What is the turn around?” He asked her.
“Three days. You have three days. In and out Man,” Beauty said to him. He liked working with her. She was a woman with a good head on her shoulders and knew how to run a business, unlike her chucklehead husband, Oscar. He worked for Oscar for nearly seven years before a wild hair ran up the man’s ass.
He didn’t like Oscar very much, but it was a job. For all intents and purposes, the creepy little bastard was his boss. “Hey Man, have you ever thought about getting rid of your land line and going digital? I mean, you can easily be traced with a land line and someone can come find you.” Oscar questioned, taking the phone out of Beauty’s hand.
“Who in their right mind would come looking for me?” Man responded.
“You never know who may get curious,” Oscar chuckled.
“Just remember what happened to the cat that let curiosity get the better of him,” he told Oscar. Besides, he never wanted a digital footprint. If anyone was dumb enough to come looking for him, they most certainly would regret it. He even had signs posted all over his property lines that stated “do not cross” and “danger ahead.” Oscar wasn’t the brightest bulb in the marquee.
“Yeah, whatever Man,” Oscar said to him.
He also hated that Oscar gave all of his team members stupid code names. He was Man. While on an assignment in California, he accidently met another gentleman, whom Oscar named Stop.
“It sure beats being named Sign,” Stop told him while they were working a double contract in wine country.
The job was supposed to last four days. However, he and Stop completed the contract on day one. For the remaining three days, he went sightseeing. On a tour of one of the vineyards, Man developed a love of landscapes and picturesque views. A thousand dollars later and equipped with a digital camera with a wide-angle lens, he became an amateur photographer.
In his hotel room, Man wandered into an online chat room with some fellow enthusiasts, where he learned about websites and stock images people would buy. The trip to California had been well-worth the time spent. Smiling, he returned to his remote home three days after his expected return date to find the bloated body of Oscar Kurtzwilde on his front porch. The man was impressed that Oscar managed to circumvent all the security measures in the yard and wood line to make it to the front door. Poor bastard got too cocky and missed the trip wire on the front steps. If the trip wire didn’t get him, the infrared one would have. Either way, he would still have been dead.
“Well Oscar, congrats, you found me,” Man unfeelingly chided the bloated little blowhard.
A darkness inside of him made Man take out his camera and snap a photo of Oscar’s maggot covered hand. It was macabre, but it would sell. Sighing deeply, Man went to his shed, removed the needed materials to roll up Oscar, and sent him home.
First, he had to call Oscar’s wife to report his death.
“Was it by your hand?” Beauty asked him with sadness.
“No. It was death by stupid. He came looking for me. I stayed over in California for a few days. Hung out with Stop. By the looks of the situation, Oscar has been out of the loop for at least three days. I just got back today,” he told her.
“Do you desire to terminate your contract with The Company?”
“No, but I would like to renegotiate some terms,” Man responded.
“I’m listening,” she said.
“Only six jobs a year, one with a bonus. Still, no kids and no one come looking for me,” Man said to Beauty.
“Anything else?”
“I am sending Oscar home so you can put him away. I am so sorry for your loss,” he told her.
“Thank you. I will be in touch,” Beauty said and clicked off the line.
That was four years ago. Today, he packed a weekend bag with his favorite Sig Sauer with silencer and headed to Venture, Georgia. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he loaded the vehicle, set the alarms, and closed the main gate leading to the dirt road going up the mountain to his home. He folded up the photo image of Shanice in four equal squares, putting it away. Man liked her eyes. That was a problem.
The second problem was Shanice.
The image from the fax didn’t do her justice.
He found that out later in the day when he arrived in Venture to peruse the bookstore. Finding her at work for some odd reason took him by surprise. Why he didn’t expect to find her there was odd. She works here idiot.
In the corner of the bookstore, Man sat in an oversized chair thumbing through a photography picture book on size, spacing, and contrast of images. The book did not hold his interest, but the little lady did. She stood at about five feet five, small waist, nice hips, and those eyes. A man could lose himself in her eyes. He knew this for a fact.
She looked up from a stack of books and made eye contact with him. Every buzzer, sensor, and man gear in his body turned on. His reaction to her was so sharp that he moved from his spot and relocated into the stacks to gaze at her from afar. What the hell Man?
He listened for more than an hour to her and the woman who owned the bookstore go back and forth on why Shanice needed to get out more. She’d set Shanice up on a blind date tonight with some guy named Roger to meet for coffee and dessert.
They have coffee here. Why can’t this Roger meet her here where it is safe?
I want some dessert.
What the hell Man?
It only took three more minutes of conversation to know that he didn’t like this Roger dude. Roger would be going on a date with Shanice. Odd thoughts zoomed through his head primarily that this situation was getting tight, so were his pants as he watched the woman. This also added three more things to his list for today.
One, he had to locate and disable this Roger.
Two, he only brought clothes for one night, which meant he had to go shopping because he had nothing to wear.
Three, he had a date tonight with one Shanice Olleh.
You never talk to the job.
You never talk to the job.
I am going to talk to that package.
“I am The Man! I can handle this,” he tried to convince himself as he slipped quietly out the front door, careful not to make the bell jingle. He wasn’t certain what he was doing. But based on the smile covering his face, the evening was going to be pleasant, and he planned to enjoy every moment of it. He’d deal with the consequences later.
Chapter 3- And #Nope
2016 Venture, Georgia
“What are you talking about Janie?�
�� Shanice asked her boss.
Janie Strom watched the quiet lady, who had worked in her bookstore for nearly five years, go about shelving the new inventory which had arrived earlier that morning. Shanice had become a lifesaver when her sister Meg went away to college. Her brother Jem took over the family business replacing Holden, her other brother, who moved to Wyoming and married her husband’s sister. It made for a very interesting Christmas dinner, but life was messy. The problem Janie had with Shanice centered on her life being a little too neat.
“Life is messy Shanice. I also think it is unnatural for a grown woman to go so long without the touch of a man. It will make you go nuts, get a bunch of cats, and start dressing them like superheroes,” Janie argued.
“I am fine. My head is clear. I have a vision of where I am going. I don’t need some psycho man in my life talking about make me a sammich or have you washed my lucky drawers,” she told her boss.
“That may be true, but your drawers could possibly use some dusting,” Janie smirked with a twist of her lips.
“Janie, you are my boss...,” Shanice started to say.
“Yes, but I am also your friend. As a friend, I am telling you, girl, get you some,” Janie joked. “I would feel better having you around without being afraid that I am going to walk in one day and find you in the corner with your hands down your pants reading some trashy romance book. Janie doesn’t want to see that shit.”
“I’m okay. I finished my last class today and I officially have earned by Bachelor’s degree in History. Celibacy has kept me focused,” Shanice affirmed.
“Congratulations! You still get to go to bed alone tonight,” she told her.
“Janie, really, I appreciate your concern, but it is not necessary,” Shanice said trying to end the conversation.
“It is. And you know what else? In honor of your big day, I called my friend Roger. He is coming here tonight to take you for coffee and dessert to help you celebrate,” Janie said with a squeal.
“And, hashtag nope,” Shanice rolling her neck, feistily responded.
Janie was not listening. “You two can go to the Bistro across the street. She serves a pretty good burger as well,” she added with a grin.
“What part of no did you not hear Janie? Besides, there is coffee here. Ethan has much better coffee than I can get across the street. Your husband has all of these artesian coffees from places I can’t even find on a map. Wait...burger? You said dessert?”
“You can’t have dessert without having a meal first, besides, what could it hurt? You need to have an adult conversation with someone other than the patrons in this store, Shanice,” Janie emphasized.
The hairs on the back of Shanice’s neck stood up. She could feel someone watching her. Whoever was watching stared so hard it felt like their eyes were burrowing through the dark recesses of her soul. Listening but not hearing Janie, her eyes came up and met another pair of piercing blue ones that held her gaze. He didn’t flinch or look away knowing he had been caught. Instead, she saw the corner of his mouth twitch as if some form of game had just begun.
He was sexy in the worst kind of way. He looked normal.
Clark Kent kind of normal. Clark was also an alien from another planet.
Normal with muscles in black jeans that clung snuggly to well-shaped thighs. In the few seconds she looked at him, warmth crept through her and heated a near dead furnace which could use some stoking. Janie was still talking to her.
“I’m sorry what?” Shanice said turning around to see what her boss was yammering on about.
“I said, he is meeting you at six thirty,” Janie said.
“Janie, stop it! I have to pick up Rocky from practice,” she said adamantly.
“No, you don’t. Jem has a delivery to your sitter Ms. Wallace, and he will pick him up and take him to Ethan’s mom Hester. She is hosting a sleep in at the church tonight and is super excited that Rocky would be there with the other kids. So, there. Everything is all set. Go. Have fun,” Janie explained.
“If I do this, will you leave me alone, never to bother me again about a blind date?”
Janie crossed her heart, kissed her two fingers, and held them up to the ceiling.
“I don’t know what that means,” Shanice told her.
“It means you have a deal. Here, let me take that. Go home, shower, change, take some clothes over to Hester’s for Rocky,” Janie encouraged her. “By the way, Roger is into photography, likes to take pictures of insects and stuff. He teaches over at the college. He even went to Holland to look at light bulbs or something.”
“Fine,” she said giving in. “Tulips. Holland is famous for tulips.”
Her eyes went back to the chair, but the sexy stranger was gone. Shanice put down the two books she held and walked over to the stacks. She didn’t see him. Moving about the store, she looked up into the balconies of the old movie theater, which had been converted to a book store. There was no sign of the man. Her eyes went to the front door to see if he left. The door closed but oddly enough, the bell hadn’t jingled.
Did I imagine him?
“Close enough. Tulips. Bulbs. It is more than enough to start a conversation. Go on girl, get out of here,” Janie told her.
“Okay. Okay. What is his name again?”
“Roger Flynn,” she told her.
“Is he related to those men at Flynn Hardware?” Shanice asked.
“Yes. He is Orlando’s cousin,” she said with a smile.
There was no doubt in Shanice’s mind, based on Orlando’s two brothers that this date was going to end quickly. She didn’t even need to get dressed up for it, but she did need a shower after opening so many dusty boxes. I have a date.
“Oh Lord, what would Sugar Bear say to this?” She said with a chuckle as she made her way to her used Celica. I’m going on a date.
Chapter 4- Goodnight Roger
It didn’t take Man a long time to locate Roger Flynn. He started at the hardware store, where he found the dude bragging about going on a date with some desperate woman Janie had set him up with tonight.
“I’m only going to get Janie off my back. I have met Shanice before, and I wasn’t impressed,” Roger Flynn told his cousin Orlando.
“Then, why are you going?” Orlando asked him.
“Janie said she hasn’t been on a date in five years. Hell, I may look good enough for her to think I will suffice,” Roger said with a twist of his lip.
Man truly didn’t like him.
Orlando wasn’t too pleased with his words either, telling his cousin, “That is no reason to go out with a woman. If she hasn’t dated in five years, maybe there is a reason. Don’t be a reason to make her go another five without any male companionship Roger.”
“Yeah, yeah. I kind of figured some man broke her heart or something,” Roger said.
Man patiently listened but wanted to walk over and break Roger in half. Shanice seemed like a nice girl. It was bad enough someone in Charleston had given him fifty thousand reasons to make her stop breathing. Now, this jack hole was trying to take advantage of her loneliness. Who is this woman?
“Why don’t you try being her friend first,” Orlando urged his cousin. “Then, if she feels so inclined to take you to her bed, she will.”
“Whatever. It has been a minute for me too, so I’m going to let nature take its course,” Roger said looking down at his watch. “Oh, almost five... I need to get home and get cleaned up.”
“Be a good man Roger,” Orlando urged. At that moment, he also noticed the man standing beside the shelf looking at Roger. He stepped from behind the counter. “Hey there, can I help you find something?”
“No, I think I have everything I need,” the man responded. “I will take some of these nails, few of these bolts, and some of that tarp. The last of mine was used up today.”
“No problem. Will that be cash or charge?” Orlando asked the man.
“Cash,” he told the store owner, paying for the items. It also gave Roger
a bit of a lead. He drove a red convertible, which would be easy to find.
Outside of the store, Man spotted the little red car parked in front of the florist shop. There was Roger coming out with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in his hands. Predictable. Corny. Guys still do that kind of stuff?
He turned the corner on Main Street towards Elm and hooked a left on Magnolia waiting for the little red car to intersect with his waiting spot. It did. “Gotta love small towns,” Man mumbled.
Following the red car was easier than he’d expected. Roger lived in a small house in the back of a cul de sac on Mulberry. It was a cute little house in dire need of some landscaping and a fresh coat of paint. He circled the block, giving Roger time to get in the house and get settled.
Parking two blocks away, he took the new clothing he’d purchased and shoved it in his backpack along a needle loaded with what he liked to call ‘rock-a-bye’. People in small towns seldom locked their front doors. And just as he suspected, neither had Roger. Man didn’t even bother to knock or ring the doorbell, since it was already a quarter to six and Roger should be in the shower. He was right.
He entered the home and took note of details around the house. There were butterflies in boxes. Loads of science materials, a book bag with the college logo, which he thumbed through to discover that Roger taught biology at the college. “Good to know,” he whispered. It was also a good thing that Roger had black hair and blue eyes just as he did.
Roger was also the same height with a similar build. He reached into his backpack to add a bit more juice to the ‘rock-a-bye’ in the syringe. The three-bedroom home was nothing spectacular, but he was grateful for the bed in the master suite. It was an old-fashioned four poster bed, which sat high off the ground. This reduced the need for physical contact with a man of equal size and weight. His favorite green backpack was placed upon the bed as he slid under it with the syringe just as the shower taps could he heard turning off. A towel draped Roger emerged from the bathroom humming a song. Damp feet stopped in the doorway.
“What in the hell?” Roger asked as he spotted the strange backpack on his bed. Curiosity propelled him forward to inspect the bag. His damp toes stuck under the bed frame as he searched the foreign backpack. A quick swab with a numbing agent on the wet skin prevented Roger from feeling the prick of the needle inserted into the raised vein on top of his foot. It took less than a minute for the contents to make a very woozy Roger take a seat on the side of the bed. Dizziness took over as the mattress moaned and his body flopped down into bedding. Roger croaked like a sick frog as he held his belly, uncertain if he was going to vomit. He was too dizzy to stand.
Blind Date (Venture, Georgia Book 3) Page 2