With the confidence of a skilled gunman, Pauley gripped Millicent’s hand, forcing the Walther out of her grasp. “Holding a gun like that will only do two things,” Pauley said with obvious mirth. “It’ll give you one hell of a slide rash, and guarantee you won’t hit anything you’re aiming at.” Putting some distance between … Continue reading Dead Money: Family obligations
Category: Pauley
Dead Money: Girls’ Night Out
While Butch and MIllicent went over her part in the job, which poison she thought would work most effectively, how it would be best administered, and how to distract the mark, Pauley sat on the bed where she started this nightmare. The dress, fitted tight around her hips and thighs, made it difficult to get … Continue reading Dead Money: Girls’ Night Out
Clothes make the woman
Gripping her phone with both hands, the best Pauley could do was strangle Butch in effigy. Smacking the screen against her open palm, she lamented the lack of a landline handset that she could slam down with righteous indignation. She stood in the bathroom doorway, feet shoulder-width apart, one foot in front of the other. … Continue reading Clothes make the woman
Fireworks
"You've gotta put that back. If your uncle finds us in here, there'll be real fireworks." "Fireworks? Where do you get stuff like that? Butch is not gonna know if you don't tell him." Pauley held the gun in her right hand, her left cupped under the grip like she had seen her guardian do … Continue reading Fireworks
Crisis of conscience
When his friend walked into his office, Butch saw Paul had lost his usual swagger. Dropping into the offered chair, he looked broken. "You told her?" Butch pulled a bottle out of the desk drawer. "Not everything, only that she's gone," Paul said, choking on the words. "Pauley thinks her mom died. How could I … Continue reading Crisis of conscience
Driving since midnight
The impromptu picnic was his idea, a rare moment alone with her dad. He spread a blanket under "their" tree overlooking the river. Her favorite sandwiches, peanut butter and dill pickles, were packed along with thermoses of Hawaiian Punch and Sprite. "I don't understand," her voice cracked. Fighting against her tears, she was shocked to … Continue reading Driving since midnight
Thin spiral notebook 