I call this a hybrid story. It is a combination of suspense, thriller, and a little horror. The story comes with the arrogance of getting away with something. But then there is the comeuppance that shows what starts as a secret does not always stay a secret. Enjoy PART 2. See you the next time at PART 3.
THE DOOR CLICKED CLOSED behind the detectives. Francis shot up off the sofa and went straight to the wet bar. She grabbed a bottle of vodka and a shot glass and filled the glass to the top. She drank it down and poured another. She drank that down and poured another. She drank that down and poured another.
“Francis,” John said. Francis looked over at him. “You have to stop this. You have to get control of yourself. I’ve called another doctor to come over and give you a sedative. It’ll calm you. Keep you from saying things you’ll regret.”
“You’re my lawyer!” she yelled. “Not my boss. Don’t you forget it!” She looked down at the vodka bottle and the full shot glass. “You don’t know what I saw! You were not there.” He told her to keep her voice down. “Don’t tell me what to do! Damn it!” She brought the glass to her mouth and tossed it and her head back and gulped the drink down. “It was like watching a damn horror movie!” She poured another drink. He told her to slow down. “You were not there! Don’t tell me what to do!” She stared at him and gulped the drink down.
She leaned back against the wall and slid down it. Sitting on the floor she put her head down and covered it with her hands. “It was awful,” she cried. “Just awful.”
That night was still fresh in her mind. Two weeks had passed. But the memory was not fading at all.
It was supposed to be the dinner of the year. Fifteen of the most influential people in New York gathered in an old warehouse. The place was decorated like a five-star restaurant. Elegant tables and chairs and lighting, everything was just right.
The guests were in their tuxedos and evening gowns. Everyone milled about the room until the evening events were to begin.
Waiters in white tuxedos served aged bottles of wines and special ports and exotic hors d’oeuvres. Trays and trays of unique goodies made their way throughout the room. Only the best would be served for this dinner crowd.
Wheels rolling across the floor had the guests looking around. Ten waiters rolled a twenty-five feet table in the middle of the guests.
The guests gasped and were silent. Laughter followed. This was a surprise. It was the best ever. This dinner was living up to its hype.
In the center of the table was a female Anaconda lying lifeless on her stomach. She was enormous. Her head would not fit in a person’s hand. She was placed straight out to show her full length of twenty feet. She weighed four hundred and seventy-five pounds. On top she was dark green. Her belly was yellowish. A straight white mark was at every twelve inches on her back.
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