Page 3 of Dolls & Daggers
If this guy starts poking around?
That might get… tricky formoi.
And it would be such a shame if I had to remove an innocent bystander because he couldn’t keep his nose out of my business.
I’m not above deleting someone from existence if they become a problem.
Swiping on some glittery lip gloss, I add one more coat of black mascara to my already-fluffy lashes before pulling the rollers from my hair. Once it’s fluffed and sprayed to perfection, I dress, make sure Fang has food, and gather my things.
Pausing at the mirror by the front door, I check my reflection.
Every part of me is a carefully constructed facade. A mask. A porcelain veneer painted in pink and blonde and bubblegum sweetness.
A living doll… from your worst nightmares.
Slowly, I press my painted lips into a smile, mentally preparing for another outstanding performance given by yours truly.
“Showtime,” I whisper.
“Book Club this weekend?”Bunny Jones, my best friend and fellow serial killer, asks over the phone as I make my way through the crowded streets.
We’ve been friends since the night we crossed paths going after the same man—to kill, not to fuck.
I specialize in eliminating men who prey on children. Bunny prefers those who abuse women. This particular target happened to do both.
After enduring a brutal marriage to a man who used her as a punching bag, Bunny snapped. One night, all that pent-up feminine rage erupted in a series of lethal blows—delivered with a frozen rump roast straight to her husband’s face until he was nothing but a pile of unrecognizable meat.
And because she’s all of five-two and cute as a button, the authorities chalked it up to a burglary gone wrong. An intruder, they claimed, must have been after whatever her husband had stashed in the safe upstairs.
Conveniently, it turned out to be a fuck ton of money. Plus, he had insane life insurance. Bunny is set for life and doesn’t have to work at all—though she chose to return to what she did before she met him, working as an investigative assistant for the Metro Police Department.
Lucky us.
“Yes, but you’ll have to help me dehydrate. It’s a culling weekend,” I singsong into the speaker, waiting for the little man to light up the crosswalk sign.
“Sounds good. You know me, I love jerky.” Hervoice carries a telltale lilt, hinting at a smile. Bunny lives for talking shop in front of her clueless coworkers. “Excited to meet the new guy?”
“Absolutely not,” I reply, grinning as I step into my building and make a beeline for the coffee shop on the ground floor.
Ted, the handsome barista who’s worked here longer than I have, already has my morning mocha ready. Without breaking my call, I scan my employee card. He hands me the cup, and I slip him a five-dollar bill with a wink before heading upstairs.
Like allTailor Industriesbuildings, this one boasts top-tier amenities—gourmet food court, a high-end gym, and fully stocked locker rooms. It’s part of why I choseMetro Mediaas my home base. Employees just scan their card, and any charges get deducted from their paycheck at a super reduced rate.
Happy employees make for lucrative business ventures. And no one is happier than those working under theTailor Industriesumbrella.
“Gotta go—getting in the elevator now.” I press in with the early-arriving masses. “Love you.” I make a kissing noise, waiting for Bunny’s return farewell before hanging up and slipping my phone into my pink Dolce & Gabbana Devotion knockoff.
I sip my iced mocha, savoring the unexpected cinnamon syrupTed added. The spicy sweetness bursts on my tongue as my thoughts drift to the new guy.
Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe he’s not here to cover the Baby Doll Killer. Maybe he’s just a nice, standup guy looking to cover other crime avenues. I haven’t written about Bunny’s alias in a while. Perhaps Joe—my boss—wants someone to cover both killers separately to keep site traffic up.
“Morning, Dove,” the man himself greets me as I step off the elevator. His bald head gleams under the office lights, and his bushy gray mustache twitches with the strain of his smile.
“Morning, Joe!” I flash him a wide, toothy grin. “Are you excited about the new guy? I heard he comes highly recommended.” My voice drips with honey as we weave through the maze of cubicles toward my small office.
Multiple people smile and greet me as we pass. To an outsider, it probably looks like I’m the boss and Joe’s my assistant.Metro Mediawas failing, and the big bosses were threatening to close it down when I swooped in and revived it like a phoenix from the ashes.
My stories on the Baby Doll Killer captivated a new, obsessed audience. True crime junkies live for my exclusives. Since I have the inside scoop, I put us on the map as far as online media goes.
