Posts Tagged ‘Tara Fox Hall’

THE ARRANGEMEN​T: By Tara Fox Hall

Monday, February 6th, 2012

Nadia stuck a final red daisy into the glass vase, then leaned back, scrutinizing the bouquet, three more daisies ready in her hand. It was always easy to start, and then hard to tell when an arrangement was done. It always seemed that one more flower was needed for perfection.

Go for it. She stuck another daisy in, scrutinized again, and then removed it. She’d been right the first time.

Turning, she placed the remaining daisies in a plain plastic holding tub, and went to the sink, washing her hands. A quick peek at the clock confirmed it was close to nine p.m.

Nadia grimaced. Overtime was always a hassle, but it was necessary, especially around Valentine’s Day. She looked at her finished work in the rows of glassed-in refrigerated cases. All of them were due to be picked up tomorrow at six in the morning for delivery. Another list of last minute orders would be waiting to be fulfilled tomorrow when she came in: husbands scrambling to ensure that their wives and mistresses received the requisite dozen red roses. Ugh. Still, there was something to be said for job security. Plus, those simple arrangements were always easy to do.

But that was tomorrow. Work was a past tense activity tonight. Nadia grabbed her coat, purse, and keys, and walked across the room towards the exit. As she lifted the door handle, she paused. The light in Steve’s area was still on. She hesitated another few seconds, then reluctantly went towards it. If he was here, she needed to let him know she was leaving and it was up to him to lock up. If he’d just left the light on, she would need to lock up herself.

Nadia opened the door, peering in. “Steve?”

Steve wasn’t there. Instead, one of her colleagues, Mike, was waiting at the desk, reading a magazine. When he saw her, he put it down, then picked up the boxcutter lying on the desk. “Hi, Nadia,” he said, getting to his feet. He came towards her.

Nadia backed away instinctively. “What are you doing?”

“Fulfilling an arrangement,” Mike answered neutrally. “There’s no use running—”

Nadia shrieked, dropped her coat and ran, Mike in hot pursuit. She made it to the doorway where he tackled her. Nadia kneed Mike hard, then shoved him back, pushing herself away as he gave one desperate swipe with the blade. The boxcutter sliced deep, opening her throat in a gush. Nadia choked, her expression disbelieving as she struggled for another breath. Her body jerked a few times, then she stopped struggling, her eyes slowly going dull.

Steve came out from behind some boxes, his eyes looking her over. “Good job. Now I’m sure to get that promotion.”

Mike got up gingerly, wiped off the box cutter, and handed it to Steve. “It’s your turn tomorrow with Crystal.”

Steve nodded, taking the tool. “Why do you want her dead, again? I thought your therapy was working.”

“Not really,” Mike said, making a face. “But forget the whys. Stick to the plan. Wash that cutter, wipe off any prints, and toss it into Black Cat Alley across town with two twenties wrapped around the handle with a rubber band. Someone will pick it up before the night’s done.”

“All right,” Steve said, nodding. “But how long do we wait until the next step?”

“With Nadia gone, you’ll get the promotion to manager of this department by spring,” Mike said slowly, introspective. “That includes you choosing a new assistant manager; me.” He smiled widely. “Together we can move up the ranks here. It’s worked for us since college, Steve. We make a good team.”

“We always did,” Steve assented coolly, averting his eyes.

“Look, I made a mistake marrying Crystal,” Mike admitted. “I let her get in the way of our friendship. I promise, that won’t happen again. I know you’ve got my back. And you know I’ve got yours.” He offered his hand. “Deal?”

Steve looked at him for a moment, then nodded, relenting. “Deal. Now let’s get out of here. We’ve got an alibi to concoct.”

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©2012 Tara Fox Hall

Tara’s writing credits include nonfiction, horror, suspense, erotica, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She also coauthored the essay “The Allure of the Serial Killer,” published in Serial Killers - Philosophy for Everyone: Being and Killing (Wiley-Blackwell, 2010). Her first e-novella, Surrender to Me, was published in September 2011. Her first full-length novel, Lash, will publish in April 2012. She divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.

JUST A SURVEY: By Tara Fox Hall

Thursday, January 5th, 2012

Eagerly, Katie entered her age, state, and zip code, then hit enter. The working icon came up on her computer screen, then a new page flashed up, asking her in legalese if she agreed to keep all images and concepts she was about to view in confidence. Quickly, she hit the agree button, impatient for the survey to load.

She’d taken these surveys for pay for more than a year. The hardest part wasn’t answering the questions; it was accessing the surveys with the most points before enough people filled up the survey’s quota. Hopefully, she was in luck today.

The screen flashed its welcome slogan, to her relief bringing up the first question. Oddly, it wasn’t asking if she was in marketing or in journalism, like usual. This one wanted to know if she worked in the criminal justice system. Was this a political views survey? Her curiosity piqued, Katie hit the no button.

The next question was did she enjoy certain outdoor pursuits and do them regularly. Hunting, shooting sports, gardening, weight lifting, and hiking were list. Strangely ill at ease, Katie hit no for everything except gardening.

Next were her marital status, and how many other people lived in the house. Relieved to be back to normal questions, Katie answered that she was divorced and lived alone. The next page asked for her ethnicity. As usual, Katie indicated she preferred not to answer.

The next several questions had to do with testing a new scentless skin cleaner geared toward outdoor sportsmen and gardeners. Relieved, Katie quickly answered them. Finally, the screen asked if she would be willing to do an in-home trial of the new products to rate their performance. Happily, Katie typed in her address at the prompt, listing in the comments box that she would love to be part of the trial.

A screen flashed up that said FedEx would deliver a box soon with the trial products, and that complete instructions would be enclosed. Further, her account would be credited a few dollars for her time. Excited, Katie closed the Internet window, then turned off the computer.

Why had she even been alarmed at all? Often these surveys asked random things mixed in with what they really wanted to know to make sure they were getting real answers. She should be used to this by now.

****

The next evening, there was a knock at the door. Katie looked out warily. There on the steps was a FedEx man with a package, and a clipboard.

It couldn’t be here already. Could they be that interested in her opinion? Excited, Katie answered the door. “Yes?”

“Can you sign for this, Ma’am?”

Katie, nodded, taking the clipboard and pen. As she began to sign, the man pushed her hard backward through the doorway, coming in and locking it behind him.

Terrified, Katie looked up at him. “What do you want?”

“You, of course,” the man answered, coming toward her. “I’m glad to see you’re truthful, Katie. You’d be surprised how many people aren’t.”

“What do you mean?” she stammered, scuttling back as fast as she could.

“You’re age is twenty-seven, just like you said it was.” The man smiled, his dark eyes cold. “Well, maybe closer to thirty. But I’m not going to begrudge you a few years.”

“How do you—?”

“I hack into the surveys, of course,” the man said, grinning as he advanced. “No one notices a couple added questions. That’s all I need. You guys are so trusting, putting in your home addresses, your ages, everything about your habits and what you buy. You answer anything you’re asked, no matter how odd. It’s like a road map to someone like me.”

“Stop right there,” Katie said bravely. “My husband is due home any minute—”

“No,” the man answered, his shark’s grin widening. “You live alone. You’re divorced. Most important, you don’t have guns, or any other weapons, other than maybe a kitchen knife. You’re slight, and don’t exercise regularly.” He took out a long skinning knife, the blade shining wickedly. “In short, you’re easy prey.”

Katie let out a scream as the knife came down, sliding deep. She clawed at the carpet, then went limp as the knife began its real work.

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©2011 Tara Fox Hall

Tara Fox Hall is an OSHA-certified safety and health inspector at a metal fabrication shop in upstate New York. She received her bachelor’s degree in mathematics with a double minor in chemistry and biology from Binghamton University. Her writing credits include nonfiction short stories, flash, short and novella-length horror stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She also coauthored the essay “The Allure of the Serial Killer,” published in Serial Killers - Philosophy for Everyone: Being and Killing (Wiley-Blackwell, 2010). Her first E-Book, Surrender to Me, was published in September 2011. She divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.