Death be not proud

The plan is for Lance to “investigate” for a few days.  Then he’ll tell the Texas Confederate Mafia that he has found the Robert Lee gun thieves holed up at an abandoned farmhouse.  The ATF will be lying in wait for them there while simultaneously raiding their weapons caches.  The ones they know.  There are probably others.  Simultaneously Lance and I will bust into the main compound and grab little miss rich girl.   

I got sick of Kim and Bernal so I left them in my crappy motel room and went to stay with Lance.  He has a room at the nicest hotel in Big Thicket.  Which is not that nice.   I don’t know if he walks around naked all the time or if he was doing that because he resented me being there.  I don’t give a shit either way.   

The next day I had to go back to my motel because Kim said there was a woman there in a limo waiting for me.  When I think limo I think of a stretch limo.  Wikipedia says that a limo is any car with a partition for the driver.  The Mercedes-Maybach Pullman waiting for me doesn’t look like a limo but it does cost 2 million dollars. 

When the door opened and I saw Stella get out I about lost my shit.  I realized it wasn’t her though.  I didn’t spend a lot of time with Stella before I got her murdered but I never saw her wearing anything like what she was wearing.  Dirty jeans and a Sesame Street t-shirt were Stella’s style.  This other person was dressed like she was going to a James Bond casino.   

Taking a closer look, she does look a bit older than Stella.  Not much, but if you look close.  I figured she was Stella’s sister.  I was wrong, it’s her mother.  She has a strange accent.  Deep South but like she had elocution lessons.  Like someone from an old black and white movie.  She was polite but she looked at me like I was a bug.  Not a gross bug like a cockroach or a silverfish, but a shiny beetle you see on a leaf on a nature walk. 

She said “You’re a hard woman to find”.  I feel like a bunch of people have said that to me when we first meet.  I’m not hard to find.  I shouldn’t be anyway.  I have my information everywhere online that I can think of.  Maybe this is why I don’t get booked as much as I want.  If people can’t find my information, what am I doing wrong? 

She asked me if I was willing to help her bring her daughter back to life.  While I was stammering out nonsense in response to that, she nailed me with “I believe that to be the least you can do since I understand you’re the one responsible for her death.” 

Published by sopantooth

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