Blistering. It was blisteringly hot outside and almost two whole weeks into autumn.  Cookie cursed and peeled off the cardigan she had been wearing since stepping outside her small studio apartment.  It had been in the high fifties when she'd gotten up, the sun streaming though her lace curtains.  She'd made coffee and opened her window, letting the crisp smoke scented air into her living space, then sat down on her loveseat to read the paper.  It was the usual garbage and she'd been bored after a few paragraphs.  Her calico kitten batted at the paper and Cookie and scooped her up and smothered her in kisses before grabbing her purse and heading outside. She'd gone a few blocks to her favorite coffee shop and watched as others began their complicated morning routines. 

As she sat and sipped another cup of coffee the sun crested over the buildings and heat rose exponentially until it was unbearable.  Cookie wished she could strip off more than her thin sweater, but she had a meeting to attend and coming in naked wasn't on the docket.  Eventually the awning over the patio gave some shade, but it was time to go and Cookie bussed her own cup and left a nice tip for the harried counter girl. Another few blocks and she'd arrived at her car, parked neatly between two delivery trucks. She smiled, pleased to see her Pontiac Streamliner, a gift from her brother, was still parked in the same place. On more than one occasion it had just disappeared, then returned without so much as a note. 

Cookie flipped stations on the radio, finally settling on a farm report as she drove across town.  Traffic was light, but the heat was oppressive and it made people drive like maniacs.  She found herself laying on the horn more than once and was in a sour mood when she pulled up to the multi story building where an important meeting was already in session.  Before she got out of her car she double checked her purse, making sure her gun was secure.  Although she trusted the contact who had set the meeting up for her, she had never met the people she was headed to see. 

The building was fairly new and blissfully equipped with air conditioning.  Cookie checked her hair in the mirrored walls of the elevator and spritzed herself lightly with perfume.  She thought it was odd that there had been no doorman or elevator operator but she chalked it up to modernity.  Who knew what kind of amenities this new building provided its occupants?  As the elevator dinged she stopped her mind from wandering and after the doors slid open stepped warily into the hallway.  It was empty.  Cookie furrowed her brow and started down the hall, her fingers wrapped tightly around her gun.  

"Cookie?"  She flinched, catching herself before she fully jumped and turned towards the voice.  A man she didn't recognize was standing several doors down from her, hands at his side.  She nodded. 

"Who are you?"  She kept her voice even, though her nerves were jangled.  The man smiled and spread his arms wide. 

"It's me, Johnny Socks!  Your contact should have told you about me?"  He stepped forward and held out his right hand for a shake.  Cookie warily removed her hand from her purse and accepted the gesture. 

"Of course, Mr. Socks.  I'm here for a meeting." 

"Puh-lease. It's Johnny!  Let's get you in to the conference room and introduced to the guys."  Cookie's wariness turned to deeper concern when he took her firmly by the elbow and guided her into a sparsely decorated board room.  Other than a table and several chairs there was nothing to indicate this space was used very often. She pasted on a wan smile and looked each seated man in the eye.  None of them stood to greet her. 

"Gentlemen." She said.  Several of them nodded but remained silent.  Johnny pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. It was silent for several uncomfortable moments until Johnny laughed.  Cookie fully jumped, her nerves frayed beyond her ability to control them. 

"Lighten up baby!"  Johnny patted her shoulder and Cookie had to resist the urge to punch him in the gut.  "Your guy didn't tell you why you're here did he?"  Cookie shook her head, a bead of sweat trickling down her back.  How had it gotten so hot all of a sudden?  "Well," Johnny said reaching for a decanter of what looked like water. "We like your work." 

Cookie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  How should she play this?  "My work?"  She motioned for the decanter and poured herself a glass. "What in particular?  I have two jobs."  She took a sip and was relieved to taste it was water.  "I work as a secretary and do musical theater on the weekends."  Johnny guffawed.  The boisterous sound ricocheted off the undecorated walls. 

"Oh, you're a coy one aren't ya?"  He gestured to one of the seated men and pointed to the table.  "Marcus. Show us what you got." 

Marcus stood and picked up a leather briefcase. He placed it on top of the faux mahogany table and snapped it open, a sheaf of papers and photographs sat on top of what looked like bundled stacks of money.  Cookie frowned. As Marcus spread out the photographs Cookie felt herself feeling faint and clammy.  She reached for her purse but Johnny stopped her. "Uh uh." He said. 

"I need a tissue." She said.  Johnny pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. 

"Use this darling."  Cookie gritted her teeth against the urge to pass out and to slap Johnny.  She felt set up and didn't know how she would escape if she needed to.  The last photograph slid across the table and she winced.  Her last job had cost a lot of people their lives.  The charred remains of Don Luise and his wife stared up at her in crisp black and white.  She finally looked up and made eye contact with Johnny Socks. 

"What do you want with me?" 

"I told you. We like your work."  His smile was wide and it reminded Cookie of a predator animal though she wasn't sure which.  She needed to be craftier than him if she was going to walk out alive. 

"I don't recognize what you're showing me.  What is all this?" She took a long sip of water and carefully searched the faces of the other men in the office.  They remained impassive and unreadable.  Although his smile remained Johnny narrowed his eyes.  

"Listen up Corina, I know a lot more about you than you know about me. And I have it from some very solid sources that all of this," He gestured to the photos. "Happens to be because of you."  Cookie's mouth went dry.  No one knew her real name, not even her best friend Tea.  She put down the glass, afraid her hands would tremble.  Her face set hard like concrete and she lowered her voice, taking out the emotion she was feeling. 

"Like I said. What do you want with me?" 

Johnny sat back and cocked his head.  She hadn't budged.  He was having a hard time gauging her reaction. Was this an admission, a denial? He wanted to press her, really make her sweat.  Her entire demeanor had changed when he used her real name. She was stony now, a truly unfriendly look on her face.  Her vibrant hazel eyes were dark and her voice was flat.  This wasn't what he was hoping for.  

"You aren't Feds." She said. "So that leaves a few other options.  I don't think you're cops, none of you have cop shoes, and these photos look amateur. Definitely not crime scene angles.  So in that case you either work for the fellow who stood to gain the most often Don Luise died, or this is a set up for me.  Why would you set me up? I don't know. Maybe someone stands to profit if I'm taken down. But let me tell you something right now."  She paused, trying to slip out of her shoes without being noticed. "You aren't taking me down."  She dropped her purse and bent to pick it up.  Several men reached for guns but she had already slammed the heels of her shoes together, creating a spark that exploded into a flame as it touched the flimsy rayon material of her handbag. She fished her gun out of the hole created by the flames and fired several wild shots, not waiting to see if anyone ducked.  "Shit" she muttered.  She thanked herself for not wearing nylons as she ran down the linoleum hallway and crashed through the emergency stairway door.  She heard several gunshots as she pelted down the stairs, not stopping for anything, and exploded into the foyer, running past empty couches and chairs.  There were more shots as she got into her car and sped away, her sore feet screaming at her.  She needed to  call Tea and get out of town.  Immediately.