MurderVerse

I'm parked on Nebraska ave

Irony of ironies.

Magic hour: The sun is still out but the streetlights are on

The sky is blue.

Maxine wants to come and go unnoticed

Mother of darkness.

The church, a massive concrete structure with two stained glass windows

on either side of the heavy wooden doors

Sandwiched between a luncheonette on one side and an

antique shop on the other.

I wait on Max.

Almost dark, she comes into view

She's wearing a short black skirt, black stockings, a zebra print blouse, and

sunglasses

Dressed to impress not repent.

Carries a big black bag

Contents of her bag: money, in envelopes, a weapon, probably a gun,

makeup, a cell phone, combs and brushes, an address book

Tools of her trade.

She ran up the five steps to the front door like a woman half her age.

Her legs, still muscular and attractive

Still a babe, even at 73.

I wonder if the priest thought so.

Father Timothy Bernard.

Father Tim opened the front door

Had he anticipated her arrival?

She turned and scanned the street, checking for anyone following her

I slid down in my seat

She stepped into the church

I saw the door close

Confession.

I stepped into a bar across the street

Happy hour

I claimed an empty bar stool near an exit that led into an alley

I ordered a drink, whiskey

I wonder if Father Bernard smells alcohol on Maxine's breath

A couple of stools over a guy shouts to a friend, "she's telling on you dude."

"She's telling on you," he shouts a second time

A sinking feeling creeps into my gut

"I get the message, man"

"Now you got the message what are you going to do?"

I got the message but had no idea what to do?