Blood-stained Olympic Silver Coin

Part two

  Jonas shivered at the words spoken by the woman. He'd expected a clear written instruction.

  "Don't make any sudden movement. Give the impression you know me."

  "I don't---"

  She hugged him close; caught him off guard. The words softly whispered into his ear; the perfume intoxicating.

  "Even if you don't see anyone, the cameras could lip-read. I'm your cousin."

  The embrace ended as quickly as it had happened. Jones had never been applauded for his play acting. What could he lose?

  "Cousin, what a surprise." He hugged her again tight. How could she object to his chest-to-chest contact?

  She whispered into his ear, "We need to get out of here."

  Jonas agreed. His knees trembled within his trousers. He'd only wanted to acquire the four "Munich" silver Olympic coins. He could understand the possessor wanting to receive the agreed upon payment before delivering the coins. He didn't understand how his wife and daugther had been put in peril.

  He tucked the mailbox envelope paper into his suit coat pocket. How could he believe the words he heard? This woman in sneakers presented all sorts of ontradictions. He slid across the taxi seat as she followed.

  "Where to?" asked the cabbie.

  Jonas choked, unable to speak any address.

  "1249 Greenwood," said the woman.

  Jonas gasped. The address was his home.

  "1249 Greenwood," repeated the woman.

  The cabbie pulled into traffic.

  Jonas tightened his grip on the doorhandle. He realized he wasn't going to just any address to be killed. His wife and daughter had to be at home. Hostage? He didn't know. The woman to his right allowed her skirt to expose muscular thighs. Surely she didn't desire to sexually entice him. Then he realized. She'd prepared herself to strike should he try to escape.

  The top lace of her stockings intrigued him. Was it designed to be sexual? Had he seen the pattern before? Before his mind conjured an answer the cab's brakes screeched to a stop.

  "We're here," announced the cabbie.

  "Let me," said the woman. She flashed a wad of bills.

  Jonas looked up as he closed the cab door. His home peaceful; the exterior unaltered, the window curtains unchanged, no light illuminated the walkway, no barking sound, no smell uncommon. The woman pressed against his back.

  "We'll go in," she said.

  Jonas led, into what he didn't know.

  When he hesitated, the woman's knee impacted into the back of his leg urging him forward.

  He hesitated at the front door, fumbled with his key. The woman didn't pressure him. He inserted his key. The lock responded and his front door fell inward, the darkness unusual.

  "I don't want to go in," said Jonas.

  "Why?"

  "I just don't. Take the coin, keep my deposit. My family is more important."

  "I don't have your family," she replied. "Go inside."

  Jonas abruptly stopped. The bloodstain on the vestibule floor was new.

To be continued

Copyright Donan Berg

Copyright DOTDON Books