Five Minutes
Bump looked up from the newspaper he’d been studying into the green-gray eyes of the red haired waitress standing staring expectantly at perfectly cut auburn hair did nothing to disguise she was older than she wanted to be. The oval patch over the sagging left breast of her white uniform blouse read Thelma. He assumed this was her designation.
Bump considered it sad that in his line of work the only women he met had to work past their expiry date and were usually damaged goods. His was a rotten business and sometimes he really hated it. But this particular job meant he had to locate another type of woman. A woman with a deadly agenda.
Only he hoped the woman he’d been paid to find wasn’t as world weary as this one. If she was then she wouldn’t care about her life or any
