Page 5

Lillian Martin smiled apologetically at the irate guest in front of her and wondered what her fat lips would look like stretched inside out over her skull. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid that without a receipt, there’s nothing I can do.”

The woman planted her hands on her hips and said, “Yes, there is.”

Lillian’s smile widened. “No, there isn’t.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Yes, there…” the woman sighed. “I’d like to speak to your manager.”

Lillian continued to smile sweetly at her.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

The woman—Glenda? Glinda? Glimmer? Something like that—stiffened as though she’d been slapped. “Get me your manager right now!”

“No.”

“Ex cuse me !?”

“You asked for my manager,” Lillian said sweetly. “I refused to get him.”

“You can’t… Hello? Hello!?”

Gayle leaned over the counter and shouted for help. Lillian let her scream for several minutes, earning disgusted looks from the other customers at PriceLo. The other employees were more than happy to ignore the banshee while she endeavored to make the universe aware of the horrific travesty she was enduring at the hands of this brat who didn’t realize that the entire universe revolved around Garnetta.

“Hell…”

Ginger stopped and stared at Lillian with something akin to horror. She’d finally realized that Lillian was the only person there who would pay attention to her. And above Lillian’s sweet smile were hard eyes that gave Georgina a real reason to fear her, though it was certain she had no idea what that reason was.

Lillian decided now was the time to twist the knife. “Ma’am. Unless you have a receipt, I will not refund your items. Period. You can leave them here if you don’t want them, but you’ll receive zero dollars and zero cents for them.”

“That’s—”

“I don’t give a shit what it is.”

Geraldina flinched again. “You can’t talk to me like that!” The plaintive wine of a woman-child.

“Yes, I can. I did. And you can Google our customer service number if you want to tell someone else who doesn’t give a shit all about it. But you will not receive a refund without a receipt.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Lillian was sure that Gigi would harass her for the next forty-five minutes just out of spite. But there were those hard eyes that Genevieve didn’t quite realize were the eyes of a killer.

So, instead, Genetta turned around slowly and waddled out of the store. Lillian caught sight of her amazed face in the security camera screen above the exit. No doubt, she couldn't believe that her feet were carrying her out of the store.

And she’d left her cart.

Lillian took a deep breath, and when she saw the time, she released it in a little squeak of joy. Her shift was over.

She clocked out and carefully replaced her uniform, changing into the baggy sweatpants and oversized hoodie that would ensure no one who saw her would be able to describe her well. She really should kill Gloria for being such a bitch, but she couldn’t let herself lose control like that. That’s what had gotten her into trouble the first time. She called her supervisor over. “Hey, Larry, the Gilda I was just talking to left her cart behind.”

Larry, a heavyset balding man of around forty, frowned. “The what?”

“The customer. Gepetto, or whatever.”

Mike blinked. “Oh. You mean the Karen?”

“Huh. Could have sworn her name started with a G.”

“It might, but the term for a woman being bitchy to businesses is Karen. Unless it’s a guy. Then it’s Darren.”

Lillian didn’t really care and had completely lost interest in this conversation, but she needed this job, and being cordial with your boss was pretty necessary if you wanted to keep your job. At least Mike wasn’t handsy with her.

"Well, she was a bitch, whatever her name was. She's lucky I didn't ram a pistol up her ass and pull the trigger."

Mike laughed, and Lillian joined her. He would never know that she meant that comment seriously. “Well, you’re lucky. You get to go home and forget about this crap for the next nine hours.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fun.”

He laughed again, then clapped a hand on her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

Okay, well, he wasn't sexually handsy. Just one of those annoying people who thought he was friends with everyone.

But she needed this job, so she smiled and said, “See you tomorrow, Mike.”

She drove home, smiling pleasantly just in case anyone looked into her windows. Two people cut her off, and she entertained herself by imagining them bleeding out slowly while begging her for mercy. It really was a shame that society expected her to put up with assholes.

Overall, despite Karen and the traffic, Lillian was in a good attitude. Frank was going to be on TV again today. That always made it a good day.

Lillian switched on the tv as soon as she reached the house. She squealed and clapped her hands when she saw Frank. God, he was so handsome! Why hadn’t Faith begged for the chance to do whatever he wanted? I mean, who wouldn’t want to give that man everything he ever wanted?

The news story was about the new trial set to begin tomorrow. Frank’s first trial had ended with a mistrial when some jurors maintained that the FBI mishandled evidence in the case and denied Franklin West due process. His new jury had been selected, and now once more, the jury would determine whether or not Frank could be held legally accountable for the thirty-two murders he was alleged to have committed.

The scene changed to show the crowded courtroom, full of civilians eager to watch the trial of the century. How lucky they were to be in Frank’s presence. Lillian wished she could be among them, watching that god of a man make his accusers look like fools.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let the world know that she adored him, or her own mission would be endangered. And she couldn’t allow that. She had to get Faith Bold. She had to destroy her and then show Frank that she was worthy of his love. Then she could break him out of prison, and they could be together. Yes, they could be together.

She sighed and crooned as the image switched back to Frank. “I’m going to win your heart, baby,” she whispered. “Did you get my letters? Did you know they were from me?”

There was no way he could know they were from her, of course, but that was all right. He would fall in love with the words, and then, when he saw the woman who had written them, he would fall in love with her too.

But all in good time. It was enough that she had found the courage to talk to him. Everything else would come later.

Maybe she’d write him another letter. Maybe she’d ask him who she should kill next. She could set up an anonymous P.O. box and…

No. Too risky. The FBI could track the owner of that P.O. Box, and then the jig was up.

She sighed. “One day, we’ll be together. In the meantime, I should start thinking about my next call for Faith’s attention.”

Faith Bold was difficult, but she wasn’t impossible. She would crack with the right pressure. Lillian just needed to know exactly where to put that pressure.

Then, she'd leave a message for the entire world to read.