Flash Fiction Friday: Week #45

Amy C over at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie over at Tink's Place have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you post your story on Friday - 350 words, give or take. 


And here is picture prompt #45:

Party Like A Rock Star
By Michelle Greathouse

Dax secured his earpiece, “Banks can you hear me?”  The feedback was scratchy, then leveled out.  

“I hear you.  And I would like to take this time to protest this undercover assignment once again.  As a non-practicing feminist lesbian, I find this whole ensemble degrading and masochistic.  My boobs are squished and spilling over the top of this dress.  I’ve had to strap my guns to my nekkid thighs and the harness is chafing like a mother fucker.”

Dax had the nerve to laugh.

“Well, we wanted Simon to wear the dress, and though he has some killer legs - he left a lot to be desired in the cleavage department.”  Simon smiled at the compliment.

“Banks, I didn’t know you were a lesbian.”  The young security tech swivelled his chair to check the  readout on his monitor.

“I’m not Simon...though there was that time in college.  I decided to go vegetarian when Ashley Monroe became my lab partner...but that was years ago and now I’m back to eating meat.”

“I didn’t know you went to college, Banks.”  Simon - clueless, but brilliant.

“Well it wasn’t your MIT mister smarty pants - but I did alright."  She sighed and shook her head.  "Simon, have you ever been laid - by anyone?”

An alarm on Dax’s watch beeped.  “We’re up.  Cut the chatter unless it goes pear shaped.”

Banks exited the limo and took a minute to re-arrange the folds of her long black dress, covering any bulge her guns might leave in the fabric.

This was the break they’d been looking for in a year long murder investigation.  Fifteen girls dead - all over the world.  The first found in the states - then bouncing from country to country.  

Piecing everything together, a pattern emerged.  The murders seemed to follow the tour schedule of the heavy metal goth bad - Dead Heart.  But Dax and his group were at a stand still as long as the band was out of the country.

Now, at the end of the tour, the group were back in the States - and tonight the bands manager, Rod Stratton, was hosting an end of the tour party at his mansion.  He was their killer - and tonight, they were taking him in.

Banks stopped at the entrance and flashed her smile at the goons flanking the gate.  She pulled her invitation from her tiny bag and handed it to goon number one, who glanced over the invite while goon number two eyed Banks’ girls.

“Go on in.”

Banks made her way up the stone staircase - all the while scanning for Rod Stratton.  This place was huge, she was thankful Simon had downloaded the blueprints, it would make her search easier.

But luck was on her side.  As Banks rounded the pool she caught sight of Stratton heading towards the bar.  She angled her way around the costumed party goers and sidled up to the bar.

“Can I get a rum and coke”.  Banks propped her head on her hand and waited for her drink.

“Hello pretty lady.  Having a good time?”  Stratton spoke to her breasts.  Dirt bag.

“I am.  Thank you.  It is so exciting to be here.  This is a beautiful house.  Can you believe it?”  Banks played her part of overwhelmed groupie to the hilt.

“I can.  This is my house, would you like a tour?”  Stratton was in host mode.  Banks wanted to get him as far away from security as possible before she took him down.

“I’d love to see the gardens, the fountains are beautiful from up here.  I can’t imagine what they’d look like up close.”

Stratton took her arm.  “Then off to the gardens we go.”

They did not speak as they made their way down the staircase.  Once on solid ground again, they took the lighted path that led them around the sculpted hedges to the first water fountain.

Stratton released her arm and pointed to the fountain.  “What do you think?”

Banks punched him in the face.  “I think you are a piece of shit.  And you are under arrest for the murders of fifteen young women.  You have the right to remain to silent....”
 
Banks lifted her skirt and pulled her cuffs from the harness on her thigh.  Once she had Stratton cuffed and contained she stepped back and took a good look at the fountain.  

It really was pretty.

She could hear the sounds of utter chaos coming from upstairs.  The calvary had arrived.

Score one for the good guys.

The End
Word Count: 762

Okay, this was totally something different for me - I went Contemporary with not one bit of Paranormal.  Huh, I really didn't think I could do it.  LOL

Hope you enjoyed it.  Have a great weekend.