Fleas Don't Like Cold Bodies

Christine Joyner smiled gleefully as she surveyed the tiny room. A couch, a nice comfy easy chair and one end table between them. No windows and only one door with a keyed lock and a padlock. Perfect.

She tossed her backpack on the couch and sat a cat carrier on the table. "Sorry, JC, but I can't think of any other way. The bank will take our home away if I can't get this paper signed. Don't you worry my little darling, everything will work out just fine. I have a nice treat waiting for you when we get home."

She hesitated for a moment and thought about her plan. Shaking the doubts away, she pulled two mayonnaise bottles filled with fleas and a can of insect repellent from the backpack she had tossed on the couch. Whistling a merry tune, Christine sprayed herself with the repellent. Then she sprinkled the couch and chair with fleas from one of the mayonnaise bottles. The second bottle of fleas was spread around the carpeted room. Thousands of biting little parasites quickly burrowed into the furniture and carpet.

She placed an envelope on the table beside J.C.'s carrier and stepped outside to stash her backpack in the truck of her car. A dust trail in the distance indicated a car was moving down the lonely dirt road. Christine was pleased she had remembered this abandoned house with the bomb shelter built in the basement.

A red Lexus pulled up beside Christine. Eric Wolfe bolted from the driver's seat.

"This is no place to do bank business."

"I beg to differ, Mr. Wolfe. This is the perfect place. Just one of a dozen foreclosed homes you finally got your hands on."

Eric gave her an ugly stare.

"I have everything inside." Christine gestured toward the opened door of the house. "Down stairs, to your right."

Inside the flea infested room, Christine closed the door.

"You said you signed the papers. Give them to me. I'm too busy for your shenanigans today, Ms. Joyner." Eric said.

"You misunderstood me. I said I had a paper for you to sign."

"You're not right in the head, are you, lady? There is no way in hell I'm going to sign that damn paper of yours. You want me to admit to something I didn't do."

"So you say. You are trying to steal my house just like you stole this one and from what I've heard, it's going to net you a nice profit. I know you've bought all the foreclosed homes. Where'd you get that kind of money, Wolfe?"

"My finances are none of your business." Eric unloosen his tie and glanced at J.C.'s carrier sitting on the table. "Does that cat have to be in here? I'm allergic to cats."

"I know and yes, he does. My mortgage was payed in full a year ago and you know it. I have proof you've been doing some fuzzy math with the bank's books. You are a liar and a thief."

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you? That may well be, but no one will believe you over me. My books are clean and every penny has been accounted for."

"I'm sure that's true. How many years have you been embezzling from the bank, Mr. Wolfe? I may be a crazy cat lady, but I'm not stupid. You are right, however, no one will believe me."

Eric coughed and his face grew red. "I'm out of here. That damn cat has gotten my allergies all stirred up."

"Then J.C. did his job. Sorry, but you'll be staying here until you sign that paper."

"You're crazy. Get out of my way. I'll have the police arrest you for kidnapping."

Christine suddenly pulled a semi automatic handgun from her purse.

"Whoa, hold on Christine. You don't want to do something you're going to be sorry about."

"I'm sorry it took me this long to figure out you've been stealing from your own bank. On your knees."

Eric sank to his knees. Christine walked to the table and pulled an identical handgun from her purse and laid it on the table before retreating to the door.

"There's one bullet in the clip. I'll be back in two days. If you haven't signed the paper in that envelope on the table, I'll leave you for another two days."

Eric snorted and looked at the gun just out of reach on the table. "Why are you leaving a gun with one bullet?"

"You'll understand in due time." Christine said as she picked up the cat carrier and closed the door.

Eric rose from his knees and sat in the chair as the click of the locks echoed through the room. His legs began to feel like something was crawling up the inside of his pants. He felt something moving through his hair and on his back. A tiny black speck on his white shirt caught his attention and just as he was about to wipe it away, it jumped on his face. Suddenly his whole body felt like something was crawling all over him. He started scratching his legs and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he started feeling little bites under his socks and around his waist. He sprang from the chair and threw off his suit jacket. His white shirt was crawling with little black spots that jumped on his hands and face. Biting and crawling everywhere. He unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants and tore off his shirt. Fleas everywhere jumping into his nose, eyes, mouth and climbing inside his ears. Razor sharp teeth biting his flesh. He fell on the couch and a swarm of fleas covered his body. Thousands of fleas biting non stop. A frantic cry died in his already swollen throat. His allergy medication was on his desk at the office. Tears raced down his cheeks. No way to escape. The air grew thick and his chest heaved as he tried to breathe.

Christine returned two days later as promised. Eric was laying naked on the floor. Red marks covered his body. He looked up as Christine entered the room. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, his face was white as if all the blood had been sucked from it. He weakly raised his arm and pointed toward the table.

"It's signed."

Christine checked the signature on the letter admitting his guilt. She picked up the gun and laid it under Eric's hand.

"Fleas don't like a cold body." She said closing the door.

"No, come back here. Let me out. No. No."

An eerie silence then BAM, a gunshot rang out.

"Wow. I didn't think he'd be man enough to do it."

Christine smiled as she covered the body with a tarp, set off a flea bomb and quickly left the room.

"I'll finish cleaning up tomorrow. Boy, the media will have a field day with this story. Bank executive found dead. Suicide note admits embezzlement from bank by skimming mortgage payments made by customers. The perfect ending to this story, if you ask me."

She placed Eric's signed confession inside his car before she drove away.