Choke by Kaye George Page A

volume on the last sentence. But where were they?
    “Shush! You don’t want nobody to hear this, do you? Of course I could-a do it, but do I wanna, that’s the question.”
    “I know he’s responsible for Xenia’s wreck. I just know it.” Frank was whispering again. “He should pay. It’s for family, Uncle Guido.”
    “Stop sayin’ my name, cretino . If I do whack-a him, it’ll be the last job ever for me. Capisce? And you’ll owe me somethin’, family or no.”
    Immy heard footsteps coming toward her and looked around, frantic. A large trash barrel stood out about a foot and a half from the concrete wall. She squeezed in behind it, hoping the dim lighting would help conceal the parts of her that were going to stick out.
    The footsteps stopped, however, before they reached her hiding place. Two car doors clicked open and slammed closed, then two separate engines started up. She stood abruptly, thinking it might look bad if she were seen hiding. Also, she wanted to see the cars.
    The trash barrel went over with a clang that echoed up the ramp down which Frank’s noisy vehicle was coming. He was proud of his glass mufflers that shook the whole car. He liked to sit and rev the stupid thing outside the diner. Immy ducked into the stairwell and dashed up the stairs as fast as a jackrabbit. She knew what Guido’s car looked like. The two were definitely Frankie and Guido, and she didn’t want Guido to see her.
    She sat in her car for a full five minutes while her breathing returned to normal. It had sounded like Frank’s Uncle Guido was going to kill someone. Isn’t that what whack meant? But they must not have seen her, since no hit man came for her. Her hands still shook, though, as she buckled her belt and started down the hospital parking ramp.
    That word, whack, kept bouncing around in her brain, stopping all other thoughts. It was a scary word. Maybe being a PI was too frightening.
    She was careful to drive the speed limit. It wouldn’t do to get nabbed for a traffic violation when she was a wanted woman and in disguise. She hightailed it toward her hideout to add Frank’s name to her list of suspects. Well, not hightailed exactly, since she did go the speed limit, more like slowtailed it. But, before she left Wymee Falls, an office supply store caught her eye. She thought it would be a good idea to color code the suspects on her list, and she needed supplies for that. Since she was still wearing most of her disguise, now would be a good time to shop for them.
    Lamenting the loss of the floppy-brimmed hat, she held tightly to her wig as she got out of the car. The wind hadn’t died down any. It howled around the corner of the brick building and cut off when she got inside. Immy took a deep breath. An office supply store had a certain comforting, happy smell. Maybe it was all the paper. She always loved coming here.
    Momentarily forgetting the amount of money she had left, she filled a basket with pens, pencils, notepads, Post-its, a stapler, a hole punch, a nice sharp letter opener, a cork board, and multicolored push pins. She arrayed her items on the checkout counter, her heart lifting at the sight of all those lovely office supplies.
    The bored male cashier rang them up. “That’ll be sixty-four ninety-five.”
    She got out her wallet. Oops. “I think I’ll have to put some back.”
    “Ma’am, you have something on your face.”
    Immy touched her cheek and came away with a beauty mark stuck to her forefinger. She gritted her teeth, shoved a couple items toward the insolent twerp, slapped down her money, and scooted out of the store.
    As she drove away, she pulled her bag into her lap to inventory her purchase. She had ended up with a set of colored pencils, the push pins, and the letter opener.
    A check in the rearview mirror revealed one beauty mark still pasted to her cheek. She ripped it off and flung it out the window.
    The movement caused her wig to come halfway off. Disgusted with the whole