It was a warm, beautiful, and sunny day. Okay, wait… no, no, no, it was a cold and rainy day. Yes, that’s right. I remember it now because I was wearing some new black leather heels that I didn’t want to get wet, and I took them off so that I could run into the coffee shop.

Good thing, too, because a huge puddle stretched across the entrance, and I’d had to step right through it to get inside, which might have destroyed them.

Anyway, there I stood, barefoot and soaked, with my heels tucked beneath one arm as rainwater dripped onto the coffee shop floor.

But before any of that could happen, I needed to introduce myself. Grandma always told me to mind my manners, after all.

I smoothed down my damp curls, straightened my posture to accentuate my chest, and flashed my most flirtatious smile before heading to the counter.

My victim-to-be was approximately 5’11 and in his mid-twenties. He wore a fitted navy polo that hugged his athletic frame, paired with tailored khaki pants and a very, very nice pair of white designer sneakers.

I’d have to see if they sold a version like that for women.

An expensive watch rested on his wrist, and his dark, curly hair was short and neat. In other words, he looked trustworthy, maybe even charming. Thankfully, I knew otherwise.

Arriving at his side, I watched in silence as he handed a flyer to a woman waiting in line. To my surprise, he looked much more appealing up close than I had expected, and I felt a sense of satisfaction.

This was going to be a great week.

“It’s my dog, Max,” he said. “He’s lost, and I’m trying to find him.”

The woman stared at the image, then shook her head.

“He is absolutely precious,” she gushed in that voice people used to talk about babies and puppies. “But I’m sorry, I haven’t seen him.”

“May I have one?” I asked, drawing his attention towards me.

His eyes met mine, and I recognized the exact instant his interest changed. The sadness in his eyes vanished, briefly replaced by unmistakable desire. I was used to that reaction, and for good reason.

I was strikingly beautiful. Not in a subtle, girl-next-door fashion, but in a way that commanded attention the moment I entered a room.

My dedication to fitness had shaped my body into something amazing, if I do say so myself, and every curve was perfectly accentuated. My long hair was shiny and curly. My brown skin was flawless, no makeup required; and my blue eyes often led people to perceive me as exotic.

It was quite funny, actually, because, truth be told, others cared more about my looks than I did. Believe it or not, looks weren’t important to me. The only reason I paid any attention was that people are shallow by nature. A pretty face always made them let their guard down.

Idiots.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” I asked, hand extended. I tried to flutter my eyes flirtatiously a few times, but it got harder as droplets of water kept falling in.

No matter, he still fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

The guy blinked slowly as though awakening from a trance.

“Oh, um, of course,” he said. A sheepish grin spread across his face. He handed me a flyer, then stopped. “You look like you could use these first.”

He reached behind the counter, grabbed a handful of napkins, and held them out to me before placing a hand on my shoulder and gently guiding me off to the side, away from the gathering crowd.

I laughed softly as I accepted them. “Thanks,” I replied, dabbing at the rainwater clinging to my face, arms, and hands.

“It was my pleasure,” he replied. Still giving me that goofy-ass grin.

Once I was at least somewhat dry, he gave me a flyer.

“This is my dog, Max. I was at the pharmacy a few doors down on Friday. They didn’t allow pets inside, so I tied him to the pole in front. I was only there for about five minutes, but when I returned, he’d somehow gotten loose and taken off.”

I studied the photo as long as the woman had, and then my eyes widened.

“I can’t believe this!” I said, looking back up at him. “This is your dog?”

He nodded, hope flashing across his face. “You’ve seen him?”

“Yeah, a few days ago. He was wandering around a neighborhood a couple of blocks from here. I couldn’t just leave him, so I took him home until I could figure out who he belonged to.”

His expression transformed from cautious optimism to outright relief as he let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“This is… I just… I just can’t believe it,” he said, flustered. “Thank you is simply not enough. At the very least, let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I’d like that,” I admitted.

“Great,” he said, gesturing toward a small table near the window.

After asking what I wanted to drink, he left to place the order.

I sank into the chair and surveyed the shop. Rain kept most people away, leaving only two baristas, three random customers, my soon-to-be victim, and me.

Patience had never been my strong suit. Whenever I found myself with nothing to do, my mind always searched for a distraction, usually murder.

So, to pass the time, I played a little game I called “Can I take ém?”

I started with an old man who sat alone. His cane rested beside his chair as he sipped his coffee and read the paper. Now the question was: could I take him?

Absolutely. I would beat him with his own cane. Swift. Simple. Efficient.

Next, my eyes shifted to a woman working on not one but two laptops. She was apparently a truly dedicated employee to some lucky company out there in the virtual world, but could I take her?

Hmmm, she looked spunky, like she’d be hard to catch if I tried to chase her. Too much energy. Therefore, I would have to use her job as my weapon. When she was busy staring off into the screen, I could wrap one of the charging cords around her throat and choke the life out of her. Easy peasy.

I had to hold back from clapping. This was fun.

Alright, who’s next? I thought to myself as my gaze landed on contestant number three.

Now, what do we have here?

A lanky man in slacks lounged at a corner table, alone. He gazed out the window, coffee in hand. No paper, no device, just a faint, knowing smile curling his lips.

Ladies and gentlemen, this was either a killer in training or a seasoned member of the club.

It was rare to spot a fellow enthusiast in the wild. When I did, it felt like watching a rare animal documentary. Still, the real question was: could I take him?

I mulled it over, and to my own surprise, decided no. Or at least not without planning. I needed to study him, learn his patterns, and find his weaknesses. It wasn’t because I believed I was weaker, but rather because I wasn’t certain I could match his level of madness.

You see, I only took lives for revenge against the wicked, or occasionally when I was in an exceptionally dark mood.

This man probably killed for no reason at all. No moral compass, no logic, just chaos.

Those were the dangerous ones. I admired them from afar, but never wanted to join their ranks.

I wanted my kills to mean something, not just feed some twisted urge. And he was twisted, no doubt. The thick glasses, the severe part in his hair, the way he licked his lips while watching people outside told me all I needed.

My train of thought was interrupted when my soon-to-be victim returned and set down two cups of coffee. One sat in front of me, and the other in front of him on the table before he took a seat.

“In all the haste and excitement. I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Chad,” he said, offering me his hand.

I slipped mine into his.

“Nice to meet you, Chad. I’m Gia,” I replied, the lie sliding off my lips without a second thought.

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved the name Gia because that was the lady from across the hall who lived in my apartment building. She and her husband were always fighting, and by fighting I mean he threw punches, and her face caught them.

Well, one night I guess she’d had enough because she killed him, and the whole time the cops were dragging her to the patrol car, she shouted, “I killed that bastard, and I’d do it again.” She even spat towards the team rolling his body out in a bag.

My hero.

“Gia, huh?” Chad said with a smile. “That’s a beautiful name. Then again, it fits because you’re a beautiful woman.”

I did what most shy women probably did when a handsome guy paid them a compliment. I blushed, averted my gaze, and suddenly found my coffee cup incredibly interesting.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“How’s Max?” he asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. “He didn’t seem hurt or anything when you found him, did he?”

“Oh, no. Not at all,” I replied, shaking my head. “He was perfectly fine, just a little scared and confused at first. After that, though, he was an absolute sweetheart. I’ve been taking very good care of him.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. “Here, let me show you.”

I found one of my favorite pictures of Max sprawled across my living room floor with a toy between his paws, and passed the phone to Chad.

His face lit up the instant he saw it.

“Oh, Max, my boy!” he said. “Looks like you’ve been living the good life.”

“He definitely wasn’t deprived of anything,” I agreed. “I may have even spoiled him just a little.”

“A little?” He chuckled. “Judging by this picture, I think you’ve completely ruined him.”

I took the phone from his hands and studied the picture of the adorable Bichon Frise, tongue hanging out and happiness in his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right, he’s ruined.”

Chad laughed. Then looked at me with curiosity.

“So,” he asked, resting his forearms on the table, “are you from around here?”

“No, I’m from Missouri,” I lied again. “Moved here when I was fifteen. What about you?”

“I was born and raised here. Left for college for a few years, graduated, and then ended up missing home.”

I took a sip of my drink and said, “Graduated? You still look young enough to be in college. How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight,” he replied. “What about you?

“Nineteen”, I responded with a smile.

It was the first honest answer I’d given him since we met.

“ Nineteen,” he repeated appraisingly. A hint of flirtation laced his eyes as they raked over me like I was some young dumb girl he could easily control.

I played along, continuing my act of shyness and naivety. It boosted his ego and made him feel like he was driving the interaction, not me.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked.

“I’m a technician.” He answered and took a sip of his coffee. “What about you, gorgeous? How do you spend your days?”

“I work at a clothing store while I decide what I want to go to school for.”

He licked his lips and reached across the table to touch my hand. “And are you single?” he asked.

I grinned. “Yes, are you?”

“For now I am, but hopefully not for long,” he replied suggestively.

I giggled like an airhead, letting him know I got the point, and we drifted from one topic to another: favorite movies, embarrassing childhood stories, places we’d always wanted to visit. All lies on my part, but his answers were entertaining.

He had a lot of hope and dreams, and it gave me even more satisfaction to know I’d be putting an end to them all.

Just as he was about to tell me about a camping trip that had gone spectacularly wrong, his phone buzzed on the table.

He glanced at the screen, and an apologetic look crossed his face.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I need to take this. It’ll only take a minute.”

“No worries. Go ahead,” I said with a wave of the hand.

Chad stood, gave me one last apologetic smile, and walked toward the front of the coffee shop to answer the call.

My smile vanished as soon as he turned his back. I hated this asshole. Who does he think he is? Living a great life, enjoying friends, vacations, and upscale amenities all on other people’s dime, but then again, that is what scammers do.

Chad wasn’t a technician as he’d claimed. He was a con artist. I knew because he’d scammed five thousand dollars out of my grandmother. My sweet, trusting seventy-year-old grandmother. She was one of two people in this world for whom I would kill. The other being my twin sister, Clara.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, I reached into my purse and pulled out the tiny bottle of liquid laxative I’d been keeping inside. Then, still being extremely cautious, I removed the lid, poured a generous amount into Chad’s coffee and stirred it with my finger.

I replaced the lid just in time because Chad returned to the table. His flirtatious charm that had been present before he left the table hadn’t returned with him. Instead, he seemed annoyed.

“Everything okay?” I asked with feigned concern.

I saw a coldness in him that vanished quickly before he covered it with a smile and said, “Yeah, just had a client fall through. Where were we?”

“I was enjoying hearing how amazing you are,” I said.

“Right,” he responded, drawing the word out. “How about we go pick up Max, and then we can finish this conversation at your place?”

He took a long sip of his coffee.

Almost immediately, his face twisted with disgust.

“Ugh… that tastes weird.”

“Really?” I asked innocently.

“Yeah. It’s kind of bitter. It wasn’t like that before.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “Maybe it just needs some sweetener.”

“Good idea.”

Chad picked up a pack from the table’s small iron sugar rack and dumped it into his coffee. After stirring it with his straw, he tasted it again. 

“Better?” I asked expectantly.

He tilted his head. “Still a little weird… but I can live with it.” His eyes met mine. “Besides, I’m more interested in spending time with you.”

He reached across the table and gently took my hand.

“So… can we go to your place?”

I hesitated.

“I don’t know, Chad. I really need to get to work soon.”

“Please?” he said with an easy grin. “After that phone call, my day’s gone downhill. Time with you is exactly what I need.”

If you think you’re having a bad day now, I thought, just wait a couple more hours when that laxative kicks in.

I glanced at my watch, and my eyes widened.

“Oh no. I really have to go.” Quickly, I gathered up my purse and phone. “I’m so sorry. My boss already warned me that if I’m late one more time, I could lose my job.”

Chad’s shoulders slumped, and he gave me a disappointed look before asking me for a pen.

Quickly, he wrote his name and address on a napkin before sliding it across the table to me. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” he pressed, coming at it from another angle. “We have to see each other anyway so that I can get Max. We could find some time for us in there too.”

The way he said it sounded so slimy, but I pretended to reconsider.

“Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll bring Max to your place tomorrow, and afterward, we can take him to the park or something.”

He leaned back in his chair, an expression of victory on his face.

“I’ll accept that,” he said. “It’s a date.”

“Great,” I replied, returning the smile, and off I went, practically skipping.

I was so excited. I’d told Chad a lot of lies during our conversation, but there were two truths that I am sure he will regret not knowing. One is that I am the one who stole Max from the post, and two… he would be dead by Friday.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

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