Friday Flash Fiction #36 and WAG: Last Day

The prospective client walked into the office, started to speak to her boss, then saw Karen and visibly blanched. Inwardly she sighed, outwardly she smiled. "Hi, I'm Karen Castleman," she walked forward with her hand outstretched. He hesitated noticeably before taking it, "I see you've met my sister Casey," she mentioned with a wry grin.

"Your sister?" he asked hesitantly.

"Twins," Karen told him, "and complete opposites."

He still looked very nervous, "Mr. Goff, if you know my sister at all, could you ever see her doing a mundane job like this? Sorry Michael," she flashed a grin at her boss as she shrugged off the high-stress VP position she'd worked so hard to earn, "but compared to Casey, I may as well be a soccer mom."

"I didn't even know you had a sister?" Michael asked.

"I don't anymore; Casey died five years ago on assignment in Mexico." At her boss's stunned look, Karen felt the need to elaborate, "She was thoroughly involved in alphabet soup; worked for several of the three-letter agencies, and God only knows who else. And it eventually got her killed. They say the brightest flames burn the fastest. Well Casey got ambition, power, intelligence and strength. I got time."

"Karen you're hardly lacking any of those," Michael reminded her.

"Not compared to the average person perhaps," she said without the least hint of ego, "but compared to her I was but a shadow." There was no self-pity in her voice; she was merely stating a fact.

"Can you do what she could do?" Mr. Goff questioned.

"No, Casey got all the talent in our family." Michael looked puzzled but let it go, especially as the client seemed to relax. The meeting continued on a far more traditional note. Karen wasn't sure they'd be able to overcome the inauspicious beginning and land the account, but it certainly ended on a far more positive note than it had begun.

Karen finished out her day as always. As she got ready to go home, she was a little more careful than usual about gathering her stuff; into her briefcase went her extra shoes, her coffee mug, and her digital picture frame. In that frame was a flash card that held many of her favourite photos. It also held the company financial records and intricate personal notes on every client and the evidence to destroy the company who was helping them funnel drug money.

Michael watched from his office window as Karen left for the day. She was sharp, and she worked hard. But he was going to have to let her go; he couldn't afford any connections, no matter how tenuous, to the three letter agencies. If her sister was dead, it should be ok. But could he trust that she really was? He picked up Karen's file off the desk, scanning for any reference to a connected sister. Karen Castleman. KC. Casey. And as the pieces fell into place, Michael’s heart skipped a beat. With shaking hands he picked up the phone and made a short call. Then he packed his bag as carefully as Karen had.

Neither of them would be returning to the office the next day. And only one of them would be alive to worry about it.

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