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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/716202-Jan-22---Plane
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1595043
Entries made during Leger's 15 for 15 Contest.
#716202 added January 23, 2011 at 8:19am
Restrictions: None
Jan 22 - Plane
Two detectives from the Miami Dade Police Department sat at the long, tiled island in the kitchen, and gave her the worse news she had heard in her life. And after her husband's plane had crashed into the ocean, it was pretty hard to fathom anything topping that.

Slowly, Yolanda brushed dark curls from her eyes and did her best not to shed a tear. "There are no bodies? Nothing at all?"

The first detective cleared his throat, his dark gaze giving her the situation straight. "There's nothing but debris and some of their luggage. There were no signs of a body anywhere."

"So you're saying he's gone."

The second detective, female and around Yolanda's age, took her hands in hers in comfort. "Yes, he's gone. And all of his money is gone with it."

Yolanda did cry now, but not tears of pain. Tears of rage. That bastard had ruined everything they had worked for. Had taken away the dreams they had had for their small boys. He had been weak and greedy and had run. When she got her hands on him...

She escorted the detectives off her property, telling them she had to pick her sons up from school. Before driving off, she made them promise if they found her husband, to let him know that she'd be waiting for him. The smudged mascara and soft hiccups hopefully drowned out her malice enough.

She took her cold wrath inside and went into the master bedroom, peeling back boxes on the top shelf of their closet to reach an out-of-date Prada bag. It was ugly as sin but the memories behind it made her smile, a cruel twist of the lips. Yolanda took the disposal phone out of the bag and hit 1 on speed dial.

"Que?" A gruff voice answered on the other end. She could hear the busy sounds of the tarmac in the background.

"Remember that favor you owe me, Alejandro. I'm calling it in."

"Ah mira." He chuckled, a sound she knew well. She could picture him now next to his private jet, wearing some awful white suit, the sun shining off his bald head. He had been handsome, before he got "taste". "Why would I do that? After all, you are my ex-wife."

"Ex-wife or not, you owe me big. Remember Veracruz?" The silence made her smirk. "You do this thing for me and I'm out of your hair completely."

"What do you want done?"

"My husband abandon me and my children the day he abandoned his plane and made it look like an accident. I want you to find him for me."

"Do I even need to ask if you want him dead or alive?"

"Alive is preferable. Dead leaves me nothing to work with."

Alejandro truly laughed now. "Mi rena linda. You've always had a vicious heart. I'll have your results soon."

Yolanda hung up satisfied. And with as much decorum she could summon, she smashed the disposal phone into tiny pieces using one of her new red Manolo Blahnik all the while thinking of airplanes.
© Copyright 2011 LdyPhoenix (UN: ldyphoenix at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/716202-Jan-22---Plane