Bougainvillea, Train, Letter, Quilt, Wallet

Though magnificently pink and happy, the bougainvillea strangled the front entrance to Jane's tidy home. Long thorny tendrils harbored creepy crawly things—snakes, frogs, lizards, and even a toad. The bougainvillea vine had to go.

Jane made the decision on a wet Thursday while watching a toad jump from the vine to the house. Her life was simple. A plain cream quilt hung on the back of the couch, and a smallish TV on a rustic parsons table entertained Jane most of the time. She retired five years ago, and this was exactly the life she wanted. Quiet, no challenges, no arguments, no snap decisions - she thought purposeless was the right word, but it sounded like criticism, so she changed it to frictionless. She was still pretty enough, though Jane had lost some of the spark that made her appear invincible. Now, the angles in her face and the sharp wolf-blue eyes were beginning to fade. Her taut arms and legs were starting to show the signs of age in slack, crepey skin. Her coal black hair entertained a few white hairs.

The next second, the phone rang. The ring was one of her favorite songs from the 60s that alerted her to the caller. She answered the call with slight exasperation.

"Hello," Jane said, quietly thinking she didn't want to talk to anyone now.

"Is this Jane Meyers?" the caller questioned. "Yes", said Jane. "…and who am I speaking with?

This is Lieutenant Garerad from the downtown precinct. We would like you to come down to answer a few questions. Nothing dire. Just a few simple questions".

"About what, for heaven's sake?!" exclaimed Jane. "I certainly have nothing to add to any of your investigations, and, by the way, how did you get my name, and why are you calling me?"

"There was a wallet on a train with your name in it. The owner is dead.." Explained the Lieutenant. "He was found gripping a letter in what we assume is your handwriting since your signature is on the letter."

"My God!" exclaimed Jane. "Who is the dead man?"

"We believe his name is Bobby Cramer, a broker from NYC." Said the Lieutenant.

Bobby Cramer. For a millisecond, Jane couldn't speak. She quickly recovered and said, "I did know a Bobby Cramer, but only as a client years ago." What did the letter say?"

"Mam, you'll have to come to the station for more information." Replied the Lieutenant. "Tomorrow will be fine."

Jane composed herself as much as possible.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'’ll see you tomorrow downtown." said Jane politely.

Bobby Cramer. The love of her life. The secret of her life and the most intoxicating person she had ever met.

Bobby was tall and perfectly fit, with carefree blue eyes that twinkled and caressed with every word. He was an irresistible snack. Part of her chain of command, Bobby relied on her to deliver the next assignment, directions, choice of weapons, and the kill rate.