Wednesday

Kylie, an avid coffee drinker, was up bright and early as usual to prepare her first cup of joe. With raving thoughts about the day ahead of her, she becomes preoccupied in her trance, burning her wrist on the plate of the coffee maker. "What the?", Kylie screams. Looking at her red, swelling right hand, she fights back tears from the pain. The stinging of the injury brought Kylie back to 7:20 AM of the Wednesday morning she had left behind for the deep daydream. Running to the medicine cabinet in her oversized bathroom for supplies to treat her burn, Kylie trips over her work bag. “Am I going to get out the door in one piece?" Using her left hand to pick up the items that had fallen onto the hardwood floor of her luxurious apartment, she stops abruptly. She notices a black notebook that she had never seen before that day and began to drift away in a sea of possibilities of how it ended up in her satchel-style bag. With her right hand still throbbing, she grabs the notebook and continues through the hallway where her bathroom is located. Clinching onto the notebook as if it were her most prized possession, she carefully used her injured hand to gather her first aid kit and headed towards the yellow chaise lounge chair at the foot of her bed.

Applying ointment to the burn, she could not help but wonder over and over where she accosted the notebook, and what was inside. Kylie had been so mind boggled about it being in her possession to begin with, she never opened the notebook to review its contents. Finishing up her wound dressing, Kylie enters her walk-in closet and grabs a few articles of clothing to accompany her nicely tanned almond skin on the Wednesday from hell, or so she would later find it to be.

All dressed and manicured for a day of torture, unbeknownst to Kylie, she grabs her Saint Laurent handbag, keys, work tote, and dangerous but desired coffee and headed for the outside world.

Kylie lived in a nice neighborhood, so she often walked to get to where she wanted to go, despite owning 2019 red Audi R8. She always said that she bought the car for flare and glare not actual driving. Moseying on down the walk path that guided her into the business park near her apartment, Kylie was extensively oblivious to the group of people, three guys and a girl, walking closely behind her.

Pretending to be a random jogger, one of the guys separates himself from the pack, and trots off slightly diagonal across the street. Two of the guys signaled to the girl to attempt at getting Kylie's attention. Hesitant the girl, Seven, starts walking faster to become parallel to Kylie. As soon as the two ladies' shoulders aligned, Seven, slips a small tracking device into Kylie’s work tote that bounced off her right hip as she walked, and begins talking in a muffled voice. Kylie, realizing she was talking to her, says, "Excuse me?" Seven repeats her statement more clearly, "Do you know how to get to the Fair Lady Coffee Shop, I'm supposed to meet my girlfriend in five minutes. I just keep walking in circles, this darn GPS.", holding up her cracked screen iPhone. Kylie, excitedly says, "Yes, I can show you, I am actually headed that way. It's in my office building." Feeling good that she may have just gained a friend, all because of the coffee connection, she leads the way to the store and carries the conversation further.

"Well, here you are. I apologize I ran my mouth the whole two blocks and didn't even get your..." Seven, cutting Kylie off says, "Seven, Seven Pellets, is my name. Thank you for your help." As Kylie was beginning to respond with her name, Seven, cuts her off again, "Oh, there is my girlfriend, sorry got

to run. Thank you again." Looking in the direction Seven had nodded, Kylie spots a familiar but strange face. She was almost sure the person Seven was signaling to was a male, and that he had just run pass her along the walk to the coffee shop, right as Seven approached her.

Kylie felt played, for reasons opposed to why she actually should be feeling anything of the sort. Not realizing that the other two males that were with Seven were still following her.

She had gotten all excited about talking to someone other than her coworkers, mom, and childhood friend, Renna.

As if it were scheduled, Kylie experienced her third accident of the morning. Walking into the building trying to do what her mother always told her to avoid, multitasking, Kylie ran into the second set of crispy clean glass doors that led you to the shiny silver reception desk, directly centered in the middle of the first floor. Attempting to eliminate any unwanted attention, Kylie pretended she was fine, and that her knee did not ache in the least bit and walked to the “C” elevators that had taken her to her office for the last seven years. “Kylie, Kylie, wait up.”, Kylie’s office assistant, Sheila, yelled right as the elevator doors were closing. Without any apprehension, Kylie sticks her wounded hand in the doors’ path to hold the elevator for Sheila. The doors obviously did not get the signal that there was an object, Kylie’s hand, that would prevent it from closing properly, because it tried to close anyway. The door trapped Kylie’s hand in just a bit before it bounced back open, as if her hand was the opposing serve in a tennis match.

“Damn Sheila, look what you made me do.”, Kylie yelled aggressively to Sheila, forgetting she was in public. As the elevator closed again Sheila blurted out, “Ok, I am sorry, but I need to tell you something.” Kylie hearing the panic in Sheila’s voice, acknowledging it could not be because of the elevator incident, became worried. “What is it girl? I have had a weird day already; I cannot take any craziness from you. Please tell me you are not getting back with Jackson.” Sheila looking disgusted and disappointed in Kylie’s response, answered in pure irritation, “Hell no, he is so not up for consideration. But the girl.” Sheila paused, and looked around as if they were not the only two people on the long ride to their floor. After about thirty seconds, Sheila says, “The girl you were walking with this morning, do you know who she is?” The concern in Sheila’s voice made Kylie nervous. She started to tread off on a mental journey, when Sheila said, “Seven Pellets is one of America’s Most Wanted.”

The bell on the elevator rang louder than normal in that moment, and Kylie all of a sudden remembered the little black notebook she had found in her workbag that morning. Pretending to be aware of the infamous Seven Pellets, Kylie says, “Yes, I know her. However, I didn’t know that she was on the most wanted list.” Becoming anxious, Sheila starts spitting out all allegations against Seven, including murder of her live-in boyfriend two years ago, before going on a killing spree across New Jersey. Just as the elevator began to close again, Sheila, who had already stepped off, says loudly, “Kylie, come on.” Kylie abruptly snaps out of her all-too-common daydream’s and presses the door open button, to avoid another injury.

Walking off the elevator, Kylie starts to ask Sheila a set of her own questions without giving her time to answer. “Why is she here, you think? I thought she was already arrested in Miami. Oakland is a long way from Jersey. How the hell did I end up walking along-side her, having a somewhat decent conversation? “Take a breath.”, Sheila interrupted. “I was only asking a question, not trying to send you into a frenzy. I know how you can get Kylie.”

Entering her office Kylie, throws her handbag down in the recliner to the left of her window, and grabs her work tote and looks for the mysterious little black notebook from earlier that morning. Unsure why but, Kylie felt the two were related. She felt it in her gut the moment Sheila identified the stranger she casually walked with that morning. After pouring all of the contents from her work bag, she found the snakeskin moleskin notebook, and took the deep breath Sheila recommended. As she opened the notebook, she saw a little blue blinking light peeking through the mess she made on her oakwood desk. As she picked up the iPod looking device she said, “Sheila, look. Is this yours?” Sheila answered without even looking, “Now why would something of mine be in your office. I learned my lesson last Summer. You got bent out of shape over a chip bag.” Kylie sternly says, “No, look girl.”, holding up the device. Sheila turns around nonchalantly, but quickly changes her posture after realizing what she saw. “Kylie, don’t freak out, but I think you should call the cops. Someone is spying on us.” “Us, really?” Kylie asks, “Was the damn bomb in your bag or mine? Sheila, smirkingly replies, “Kylie, I do not think that is a bomb, pipe down.” Focusing her attention back on the notebook says, “I don’t know what it is, but I think this will tell me.”

Opening the notebook to the place the bookmark was inserted, she immediately understood what she had in her hands. There were bank account numbers and codes that corresponded to numerous banks nationwide. Each page was noted with a name in the top right corner. As she turned each page of the book she became more and more nervous, then all of a sudden her cell phone began to buzz. Jumping at the noise, Kylie grabbed the phone and quickly answered, “Kylie Jacobs, how may I assist you?” The voice on the other end of the phone sounded awkwardly familiar, which made Kylie even more nervous. The woman replied, “Hi, this is Seven, you helped me with directions this morning. I got your number from the directory in your office building.” Kylie responds with a shaky voice, snapping to get Sheila’s attention, “Ok, yes. What is it that I can do for you?” Seven answers in a more direct and unfriendly tone, “I believe you have something that belongs to me, and I want it back today. Before you decide to pretend to have no idea to what I am speaking, please understand I never ask for directions or get lost.” Kylie, now more terrified than nervous, says, “I see, but if I might ask how or why I am involved with whatever you have going on?” Sheila, seeing Kylie’s body language silently screaming terror, inserts some unwanted advice. “Hang up, Kylie. She is a killer. Don’t ask her anything.” Feeling trapped trying to regain control, Kylie tells Seven she would go to the police. Becoming impatient, Seven, sets her demands, and hangs up the phone.

Kylie, still in disbelief about what she was experiencing before noon on a Wednesday that she thought would be like all others. Either way, Kylie knew if she wanted this to be over, she had to do as instructed. With no regard for Sheila, Kylie grabbed the tracking mechanism and the notebook and headed to the park located south of her office building. Overwhelmed with fear, Kylie spotted the red lunchbox Seven mentioned on the phone sitting under the swings, shortly before she recognized the two guys walking with Seven. As she approached the lunchbox to place the items inside, she sees a small box underneath with a note attached. The note read, “I am not as bad as they say.” It was a nicely stacked set of one-hundred-dollar bills, totaling $75,000. She quickly zipped the lunchbox, and walked back in the direction of her office, hiding the money in the waist of her pants.