On Thin Ice

On Thin Ice

I collect my thoughts as I lean against the ornate railing enclosing my balcony, which overlooks the common garden area.

I hear sirens coming my way! Then, two burly cops click-clack across the courtyard pavers in their regulation footwear, guns drawn.

“Hey lady,” the cuter one calls out as he looks up at me, “Did you see or hear anything strange?”

“No sir!”

The other cop is examining a pool of blood oozing through the pavers. Next to the red puddle is a blood-spattered yellow rose.

I thought I brought that inside...

“We had a call about an altercation in this courtyard,” the not-so-cute officer says as he picks up the bloody flower. “Sure you didn’t see or hear anything?”

I clear my throat and blurt my lie. “Well, there were two guys out here arguing earlier, but I went back inside when it escalated.”

“Okay, thanks, ma’am. We’ll contact you if we have any other questions,” the cute one says.

“Of course, officer,” I say, heading for the kitchen slider.

Once inside my townhouse, I must deal with what I did earlier to my ex-husband. He’s lying face down with a knife sticking out of his back--my favorite boning knife, to be exact.

It’s a long story; I won’t bore you with the details.

I drag George across the bloody terrazzo and over to the chest freezer. His body is jockey-sized, so there should not be a problem putting him on ice, hidden beneath the jumbo bags of organic frozen veggies from Costco.

Who did what to whom in the garden while I committed my crime in the kitchen? I laugh at the irony of the situation.

The doorbell rings.
.
Oopsy.