Swiped: A Romance Thriller

Chapter 4

Angelica heard the commotion of Stevie arguing with the receptionist. That damn man. His hands did more of the speaking, tremendous gestures and waves. The receptionist greeted Angelica with quick smile and a role of the eyes to save her from this old man.

Stevie was harmless, but at the same time dangerous. That's one of the reason she liked him. The other reason would be for saving her life.

"Stevie..." Angelica tried her best to not look bothered. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

"Angelica." He looked in business, but who could take him serious with that Hawaiian shirt. "This place is looking different every time I come by, you know it?"

His habit of saying 'you know it' had been noticed the first few times he spoke but after a while it was just natural, almost expected. Where he got it from was unknown, but it belonged, according to him, at the end of every sentence, 'you know it.'

She tapped her foot. "Right. Well nothing has changed, Stevie. I haven't gotten any new inventory." That was probably harsh, but he wouldn't care. Comments just flew by him if he didn't like them.

"I think it looks different. This place is like you. You always change your look."

Ouch...what is that supposed to mean. She changed her looks often, but why live 70 years with the same makeup, same style, and everything. Each day is a new day and a new look. But Stevie was right. Sometimes her look changed tones to a higher degree, on that she could agree. Angelica nodded at the receptionist and moved off, Stevie following behind.

"You should try it."

"Try what?" She could imagine his questioning face behind her.

"A new look, Papaw. You always wear that dumb hat and vacationing clothes, but you've lived here forever. How old are you again, 133?"

"I don't even know my damn age. And I'm not your damn Papaw. Stop saying that. Anyway, yeah I'm ready to hit the casket and go to sleep for a long time. That's the thing I like about you, you know it? You work. You keep doing your stuff. Whatever this shit is."

She imagined him waving his around to display the spa.

"But you also know what other stuff I'm talking about. Just like me, I do my stuff and then I do my other stuff," Stevie said.

She turned and walked backward, facing Stevie, and placed a finger over her mouth to shush-it. Then she continued toward the office, but not before getting a dramatic wink from the old man.

Stevie made himself at home, doing the shimmies until his butt sunk deep.

"So what's going on?"

"Already told you. I needed to see what you look like." He threw up a wise smile.

"Well, you saw." She threw her hands up.

"Sure did. Last I recall, it's not Halloween. Why the hell you got that red stuff all over your shirt. Looks a bloody mess. Are you advertising your work?" Oh my god. Why is he so damn loud.

"Oh hush, Steve. This is the style, man. Haven't you ever heard of Harley Quinn. It's the rugged look." Angelica contemplated, looking down at her shirt while she stretched it out. What he would never know is that it was washed and that it actually belonged to one of them. Real washed blood from a Lucky One. This shirt could get her in deep. But like always, keep that which they want right under their noses.

She had not payed enough concern to the news lately, but she thought better of it. Taking the time to at least glance at the local news feed to see where they were at with cases. Nothing as of yet. Stevie's gofers were good. He hired the best, and she did the best for him in return.

"Looks like you just got off from murdering someone."

"You know what they say, keep it visible if you don't want them to see it."

"You sure do have a lot to hide. Sometimes I wonder when I'll be next. I hold all your secrets after all so I guess that'll never happen."

"You'll know soon enough. For now you're safe....if time doesn't get you." She clawed at the air.

"I'm not as old as you think."

"So 128."

"So funny. Listen, that Bank guy is taken care of. I got the call way back whenever I was taking a shit this morning."

"It's done and gone, then?"

"...well yes, I flushed the toilet. Like I said, I'm not as old as you think. I know how to take care of myself. I'm not going to keep them soaking in there all day."

Was he fucking serious, because it looked like it.

"Good." She didn't have much more to say. As long as Bank was not discovered within the time she wanted him found, it was okay. She had a time frame for his body. With one in Mexico it would change everything. They'll think that some Mexican lived in Cali, murdered some folk and kept moving back to his country.

Stevie looked like he had something stuck in his brain. A little gear was trying to move with the others, but he didn't know how to dislodge it. The pause took too long for her comfort. He elbowed his way up the sofa and moved to get some water. "Hot as all hell out there, you know it?"

"Always is." He looked about to spit out what was on his mind. He better not quit on me. I better not hear some life changing shit right now when I'm about to pick up the pace.

"You know, before I flushed the toilet, for some reason I thought I saw something. I found it so fascinating that I actually bent over to look closer, and I swear on all that exists that there was smoke rising from my giant turds. Maybe it's the old age thing." Stevie pulled out his phone. "I know I have it here somewhere. I recorded it."

"Eww, Steve. Stop already. Why are you here, really?"

He plopped on the sofa again. "I just want to know why. I got a picture of Bank and I wish I could unsee it. The other guy wasn't so bad off, but this seemed... almost personal."[A question that is not answered and she set it off for a later time.]

"They're all personal. And it's the other guys. You should know the number."

He wanted more. Steve really wanted to know. Though he was annoying at times, without him there was no covering her steps. She could do the part of making the trash, but throwing it away was different. Removing all her finger prints and evidence was on another level beyond her.

"...Steve, maybe we can meet up later, and talk about it. I do appreciate everything you've done for me and all but I'm at work. I'm needed, and this is the place where I can be normal and do normal people stuff."

"You're a millionaire, Angelica. That's far from normal. Lose all this shit and go work at McDonald's if you really want to see normal, if you want to see some struggle. Seven-twenty five an hour is the way to enlightenment."

Why would say that? He knew she came from nothing. For god's sake, he saved her from that street life.

From the corner of the office the red flash returned. She stared at it with Stevie. Another man? And Drina Modesty? What now. Drina was nothing to hate, but her personality was too gummy-bearish at times. At least with Stevie she could be herself. Talk the talk. Maybe talking to him about why she does it. For Tonya. But the old man already had too much on his plate. He had a whole table of food to eat right now. And she just piled it on with her extracurricular activities.

"What's that," Stevie asked.

"A safety feature. I already explained it to you last time, remember?"

"How's it work?" Stevie bypassed her comment.

Here we go again. "Basically when a man walks through the entrance it flashes." She turned to face him. "It's kind of weird actually. It didn't flash for you."

"It didn't!"

Angelica smiled.

"Really... it didn't?" he asked again. "Angelica?"