So we’re a day late with this week’s winner because of the blackout in protest of SOPA yesterday. But it was a good thing, really, because at the time the site went dark, we had a three way tie! We’ve had ties before on 5MinuteFiction, but not THREE. So it was a good thing that voting stayed open a little longer so that Day Al-Mohamed, @DayAlMohamed could pull ahead of the pack.
Here’s her winning entry for you to enjoy. See you next week!
Frema glanced around the tiny office. Broken desks, peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, fast-food wrappers strewn about and more dirt than she cared to think about…but no beer in sight, “Umm,…”
“In the Llama,” Horace grunted, his pudgy fingers clicking away at the computer in front of him. The lighting on the screen giving his already pale skin an unhealthy glow.
In an unkempt suit with his tie askew and battered fedora he looked like a hero of some dime-store noir novel. Of course, that would make her the classy dame that leads him into trouble and then betrays him, Frema thought sourly as she poked gingerly at the lifesized wooden statue of a llama that had a ratty feather boa around its neck. Of course, that wasn’t far from the truth.
She winced as one of her long red nails split on a seam. Then there was a click and the entire side of the creature opened up. Inside were several bottles. She pulled one out, “Really?”
“Was a gift from a past client.”
Frema opened it and set it on the desk where a series of ring-shaped stains showed where many beers before had sat. She leaned over Horace eyeing the screen, “Did you find it?”
“Yeah. And more.” He paused, taking his eyes from the screen and for the first time looking at her, “But that’s what you wanted, right? Access to the firm’s account.”
Frema smiled and picking up the bottle took a long swig, “I ain’t takin’ the fall for ‘ole Charlie’s embezzling.” Her polished accent had competely disappeaed, “But you see, I don’t like bein’ poor.”
Horace glanced towards his drawer where he kept his gun. This conversation wasn’tgoing to end well. He could tell.
“And you Horace, a small, cheap private eye. Too much greed and too little sense. You took advantage of me, frightened me and then stole all that money.”
Frema quickly reversed the bottle and like a pro brought it down on Horace’s head. Once, twice and a third time.
“They won’t find the money. And they certainly won’t find the body.” She said her gaze going to the full size carved wooden llama.