Diary of a Hit Woman, Episode 3

If Looks Could Kill

Previously in Tulsa, Karen framed her husband for murder. Now, she’s taking up protecting the innocent.

Episode 3: If Looks Could Kill

Dear Diary,

I’m back to tell you some drama. I know. I know. All I seem to tell you about is drama, but who else can I tell about what I’ve been getting up to?

A few days ago on a quiet morning, my office smelled strongly of peppermint, coffee, and breakfast burrito. I was busy inhaling my breakfast when my secretary came to my office door, knocked, and entered as I motioned her inside.

“Hey Lisa, what’s up?” I said as I absentmindedly scrolled down my Facebook feed with one hand and clutched my burrito with the other.

“Hey there. Have you read the paper?” She asked.

“Uh, not yet. Why?”

“There’s crazy stuff going on. Women disappearing. Dying. Being assaulted.”

“So just another day in the big city?” I said as I pick up my copy of the paper off my desk.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You’re like the most moral person I know,” she said. “You must see how crazy this is. It’s something more. I wish I could help.”

I choked on my coffee. Most moral person she knows. Damn that’s a bad sign for her if it’s true.

“You are doing so much to help by being in the mental health field,” I said.

She nodded and headed out of my office as I scanned an article warning that women are being assaulted at a local bar. These women disappear sometimes. Other times, they just have little memory of what went down. The police are advising women to be careful and travel in pairs.

I popped an earbud in my ear and hit play on my favorite music playlist. Vigilante Shit blasted through my ear. I smiled a little as I saw an article about my husband a couple pages further into the paper.

The Headline read: Local Real Estate Mongrel Charged with Murder

His smug face looked less than perfect in his mugshots. He even looked like he’d been crying. I took a small amount, okay fine, a large amount of joy in this. Gary might be in jail because I framed him, but he deserved to rot there.

Back when we were married, I found out he was cheating on me. I confronted him, and he beat the crap out of me. I filed for divorce the next day. He was the type of man that probably skirted the law his entire life, and now he was going down for something he didn’t do. There was some irony in that.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wonder back over the article about the women and the bar. That’s when I decided to go and check it out.

So when my work day ended, I went home. I put on my most revealing outfit, my little brunette bob wig, and high heals. My skirt showed enough leg that I had to shave to my bikini line, and my breasts were bursting out of my blouse. Perfect distraction. I grabbed my little purse, shoved a pocket knife and my tiny pistol I’d borrowed from a colleagues desk into it. By the way, who the hell keeps a gun in their desk when they’re a shrink? An idiot.

When I arrived at the bar, it was already busy. I took a seat at the counter, that way I could see everything going on. It didn’t take long before I noticed a man and woman that seemed off. The man was all over the woman. She seemed a bit uncomfortable. She left to use the bathroom, and he put something in her drink.

Now, this is a very common sort of an issue. It’s why I’d never leave a drink unattended with a man I don’t know well. Really, I’d never leave one unattended with anyone I don’t know well. To my horror, I watched her down it when she returned. I’d been too slow to come up with a plan.

I watched him go to lead her outside a few minutes later. She was starting to stumble. So what did I do? I followed them. I caught up to them in the parking lot. He was all but dragging her. I did the only thing I could think of doing.

I yelled out like she was my best friend. “Hey Tina!”

The man panicked and ran. Suited me fine. Then, the woman was a complete pain in my ass. She just kept telling me she wasn’t Tina. I tried to explain, but eventually I just made her give me her address. I got her in an Uber with a female driver. I explained about the man, and she promised to not pull off until she was in her house. Woman code for the win.

It was late, so I called it a night. But I came back.

It was the next night when everything went down. I was in similar clothing, trying to fit in with women ten years younger than me, when I saw the man again.

He was with a distracted woman, so it took me a few seconds to make up my mind. I hurried over there and smiled at him.

“Are you two together?” I asked.

“No,” she said and got up and moved. Smart woman.

“Perfect,” I said, sliding in by him. “Care to buy me a drink?”

He looked me up and down for a second. Then, he smiled. “I’d love to.”

That’s all it took. The rest was history.

I asked him to take me home. He, of course, agreed. Then, he asked me if I’m feeling wild. I pretended that I was half out of it. He tried to drug me, but I wasn’t really drinking my beverage. He started dragging me, and he shoved me in a car way back at the back corner of the lot.

This is how he was getting away with it. Luckily, it’s how I will get away with it as well.

He was getting handsy when I produced the mace I’d brought. I hit him straight in the face. Then, I managed, in my blind pain, to scurry out of the car. I’d gotten a face full of it as well, but it was worth it. I produced my gun from my purse, and before he could get his bearings about him, I shot him.

Now, the hard part was getting back to my car. My eyes were burning like fire, and snot was going everywhere. Damn pepper spray meant business. Did you know pepper spray hurts that bad? I didn’t.

Somehow, I made it home. I’m not sure how, but after properly rinsing my eyes and face, I felt somewhat better. I looked over my clothes and did a jig. I didn’t get any blood on me. I could keep these!

So I settled down on my couch with some cold pizza, turned on a rerun of Friends, and contemplated my life. I don’t really have friends right now, so this was as close as I’d get. I spent the evening with Friends. Pun intended.

That’s it. I know it seems like I went looking for trouble, but I was really doing the world a service. Don’t misunderstand, I did seek that bastard out, but it was the right thing to do. Right?