Elle refreshed her inbox for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. The blue circled chased its tail for a couple of seconds and then disappeared. No new mail.

Where was Bluebird? Why hadn't he replied? The lack of a response didn't do much for Elle's anxieties around the Tobias Wallace case.

There had to have been nearly one hundred people in that disco hall. How could she be sure none of them had seen her inject Tobias? What if the waiter had watched her leave? What if the people Tobias had spoken to in the lounge had guessed there was something off about her?

"Shit." There was nothing she could do about any of that. Worrying only led to paranoid actions.

She had to look at the positives. The money from the Tobias contract had been enough for Elle to buy a dozen firearms and sell them on for a profit. She'd had plenty of money left over, and with that she'd been able to book a fancy, first-class, all exclusive holiday for her and her family in two months' time.

Those were the positives. Those were the things she could affect. The past was out of her control, Elle knew that, so why did she worry?

It was 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning. Elle had told her children that she had to jump into work to make sure she'd correctly processed a stack of files, and then she'd come back. When she'd woken up that morning, Elle had known she'd need to check the laptop again, before she did anything else.

If something had happened to Bluebird, something would happen to her. If something happened to her, something would happen to her family. Her husband, especially.

Her field of work had always been a dangerous game – that was part of the reason she'd signed up to it in the first place. She'd forgotten how fear-inducing the waiting could be.

Elle thought back to the old days, to when she'd taken on one or two contracts a month. Back then, Bluebird had been a main contact of hers. Whenever she'd messaged him, he'd get the job done.

Sometimes, it had taken up to a week, maybe even two, but there was always a coded reply after a while. He'd never once let her down.

Elle closed her eyes. She pressed her head against her hands, and took three slow, deep breaths. She unzipped her heavy coat. It had just been a while, that was all. Bluebird always took a while to do the job. She had to relax and move on. Her business, and her children, depended on that.

It had been a while since she'd last spent time with her children. She wanted to take them out, make a day of it. She planned to take them to one of the parks, then maybe they could catch a movie, and then go out for something to eat later on. Maybe, if they were up for it, she would also take them bowling.

Her husband was at work, as he seemed to be most weekends, so it would be just the three of them. He worked hard, and he was there whenever he could be. Elle couldn't fault him for that. She'd kissed him goodbye that morning, just before he'd driven out of the driveway and down the street.

Elle refreshed her emails once again. Still nothing. She clicked off of the email program and shut the laptop down. She had to give Bluebird time. Impatience had never helped her in this job, and neither had panicking.

She stood up and left the room. It took less than five minutes to weave past the forklifts operating in the warehouse area of the factory and slip out the front doors.

Elle zipped her coat back up. She adjusted the furred hood. It was a cold day. The pavement around her was drenched from the previous night's rain. The clouds were a light, thick grey. She could see no traces of blue anywhere in the sky. The sun shone just slightly off from the centre of the sky. There was a chill wind in the air, too. It was the perfect day for a brisk walk through a park.

Elle needed to distract herself from her latest contract. If she didn't keep herself busy, she would run the risk of slipping up, of doing something idiotic like she had all those years before.

Elle stopped at a set of lights. She pressed the button on traffic light pole to her left. The word 'WAIT' glowed up at her in pale yellow.

The Zoe Dakota case. It had been one of the very last that Elle had undertaken before she'd sworn off contracts.

It had taken her two and a half months to get to know Zoe well enough for her to agree to going out. Zoe had been an incredibly wary individual. She had been very liked by the country, and had been thought to have a considerable chance at making Prime Minister.

Elle had never involved herself very much with politics. She had voted only once or twice in her life at the urging of her husband. It was a pointless process, in her opinion. She didn't care who ran the country, so long as her business stayed safe.

Despite all of that, she was still well aware that Zoe Dakota was a very career-oriented woman. She had sacrificed more than many others to get where she was. She had deceived countless others to pull her way to the top.

In some ways, they were similar. Elle had sacrificed a lot to get where she needed to be. She understood how work could come before relationships.

Through getting to know her, Elle had uncovered a few things about Zoe that she didn't want the media to know. She was skilled with how she played her words, but not skilled enough to keep Elle completely in the dark.

She had killed Zoe more slowly than she usually did most others. It was difficult to get near her. Zoe had stayed away from most people. Many suspected that she was a germaphobe, but upon getting to know her, Elle had realised it was deeper than that; she had a lot of secrets that she didn't want the public anywhere near.

When eventually they'd gone out together – just for drinks at a local bar, nothing too extravagant – Elle had dropped liquid chlorine into the woman's drink whenever she'd looked away, and then when she'd admitted she felt a bit sick, Elle had followed her into the bathroom.

The green man popped into view, accompanied by a rhythmic beeping sound that told Elle it was safe to cross. She crossed diagonally, and headed up a steep hill. There were trees running up both sides of the road. Two of them were covered in brilliant pink blossoms.

In the bathroom, Zoe had stumbled into a stall near the door, and Elle had made her way to one further away. She had given Zoe enough chlorine to induce respiratory failure, Elle had been sure of that.

She'd changed into a completely different outfit. She had swapped a blouse for a loose t-shirt, small high heels for tall black boots. Her wig had been the colour of soot. It had only just reached her shoulders. She'd used the bathroom mirror to insert three pairs of earrings.

Elle had left immediately after that. She had never been one to stick around. She trusted that the job was done. She could hear wet breathing from Zoe's stall, could see her heaving shadow on the floor.

Elle had grinned as she'd pushed the bathroom door open. She'd always loved a challenge. Zoe Dakota had proven to be one. The satisfaction of knowing that she had successfully taken out someone so influential, someone so guarded and unapproachable, filled Elle with glee.

Now, as she turned the key in the lock to enter her house, Elle found herself smiling.

Even with the stress it brought, even though every second of this life was a risk, she would never take on another job.

How could she? The rush, the excitement that came with the contracts was matched by nothing else. This was the life for her, this was what she'd been born to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took two and three quarters of an hour to get both of her children out of the house and into a bus.

Neither of them had been overly eager to go anywhere, but eventually Elle had convinced them both. She had been too set getting out of her head to let them put her off. They'd relented after she'd mentioned bowling.

The journey to Bute Park took twenty minutes. The sky was dotted with blue, and the air lacked the fierce chill it had held earlier on.

Bute Park had always been one of Elle's favourites. She'd lived closer to it as a child, and had come here regularly with her parents and siblings. It had changed a lot since then, but it had retained the friendly atmosphere she remembered.

Elle led the way through the short black metal fence surrounding the perimeter of the park. A butterfly fluttered past her head and landed on a fern bush beside the tarmac path. It had light brown wings.

The path led through a copse of trees, to the River Taff. The river seemed more grey than blue, but with seagulls and swans scattered across it, it seemed magical. A small boat whirred down the river. It had seen better days, but its name was legible, written along the starboard side in block red writing; 'Madame Josephine'.

Her children walked as close as they could to the river's edge. She could hear them laughing from the path. Elle was content to let them wander a bit. She needed this time with her thoughts. It was a chance to think calmly and rationally about her personal life, her business.

Elle expected a call at some point before 4pm. She wasn't sure what it would be about, but she'd messaged some contacts a few days previous in regards to her newest wares; 200lbs of cannabis, and one very highly sought-after rifle. The rifle had been specially ordered. It was due to be picked up within three days from the Dasker warehouse.

She followed her children back into the forest. The path was thinner, and the air was colder, but this was the path that led to the Gruffalo. It was her son's favourite attraction in the park.

The Gruffalo was a mound of earth. It had a nose made from the stump of a Plain tree, and mosaic orange eyes. It had horns made of a similar wood to the nose stuck into the back of its head, and below its eyes – like tusks. Grass covered its head, which made it look as though it had a thick, shaggy mane.

Elle didn't mind visiting the Gruffalo, not solely because her children liked it. She'd liked the magical quality of it. It was different from the other statues or unicorns or fairies that also dotted the park. It was a different kind of mystical.

On the way out of the park, Elle felt refreshed. She'd pushed her daughter on a tire swing, and showed her son how to climb monkey bars. She hadn't realised how effortlessly and totally they'd distracted her until she received a text from an unknown number.

Pick up at 9am Monday morning. Payment will be given upon delivery of the package. Delay will not be tolerated. Payment will be deducted if any mishaps happen to occur. Regards.

She'd all but forgotten about this contact. 9am was doable. It was earlier than Elle had been expecting, but she usually headed into her office to check supplies, emails, and the latest news at around 7am anyway.

With that text, her calm had been obliterated. That hour had been good, but it was over now. Elle looked over at her children. They walked a few steps ahead of her. They were heading to the bowling alley. She'd said they would go, and now she'd have to follow through on that.

At 8pm that night, Elle sat on the couch watching Tv. Behind her, she could hear the clatter of plates, muffled conversation, and the rush of a faucet.

Her husband was washing up. The kids were helping him. Elle had made the dinner since he'd been at work, and she'd been off for once. They'd had spaghetti, a loose Sunday tradition.

Elle wasn't paying much attention to the documentary that was on. It was something about how glass was made. It was interesting, but she was tired, and happy to just doze. She held a dark blue Harry Potter mug in her hands. Her daughter had made her tea after dinner, just before they'd started washing up. It was to her tastes, with two spoonfuls of sugar and a dash of milk. Elle took a sip, and then placed the mug down on a coaster beside her.

She relaxed back into the couch for what must have been no longer than ten seconds when her phone buzzed in her front pocket.

Elle frowned. She opened the device and read the name at the top. It was a black Samsung, one of the older ones that did little more than serve its original purpose. She'd had it for just over a month. There was no name, but the number was familiar.

Elle's finger hovered over the green answer button. She turned to look at the kitchen through the open hatch in the wall. There was a tortoiseshell cat partially blocking the view, but she could see her husband at the sink. He hummed to himself as he usually did while washing the dishes. She wasn't sure who this was, or why they were phoning, so Elle made the wise choice. She stood up, and went outside.

It was much colder now, and Elle hadn't brought a jacket. She closed the door behind her, clicked 'answer' just before the call went to voicemail, and made her way around to the side of the house. The sky was overcast still, but Elle could see a few stars through the wispier clouds.

She held the phone to her right ear. "Hello?" A gust of wind blew her hair over her eyes.

"Evelyn. This is Shona, from floor five?" Elle pressed her back against the wall. Shona rarely called her out of the blue.

"Oh, hello Shona. Is everything okay at the office?" There was a well of dread filling up in Elle's chest now. She wondered if this was to do with the Tobias case.

"Well, for the most part. I heard you filled in the business account details for this week?" She was talking about Tobias, Elle knew, but where was this going?

The lack of information didn't put Elle at ease in the slightest. "Yes, I did. Were there any mistakes?"

"No, the files were filled in perfectly. But management is chasing up the last person to update last week's files. They've yet to figure out it had anything to do with your floor."

The well in Elle's chest began to overflow. If the police were on to her, things could turn sour very quickly. But, if she'd covered her tracks well enough, they wouldn't be an issue. "Is that all? Management won't check my floor for a while. It's difficult to find out where the files were last edited." She forced herself to relax.

"They've asked a Dakota, does that ring any bells with you?" So, that's what this call was about. If the Dakota case had been brought back into the light, there was a higher chance of Elle being found out.

Then again, the Zoe Dakota case had been publicised, it had gone cold nearly two decades ago. "I know a Dakota; she left the company a while ago. She won't know anything." Elle was becoming more confident as this call went on. The Zoe Dakota case would reveal very little, except maybe her outfit that day.

"Alright. That's all, I just thought you ought to know. If management see that you were the last editor, they might ask for a word."

"Thank you for telling me, Shona. I'll be on the lookout." She ended the call and shoved the phone back into her pocket. The wind swirled a gust of brown leaves across the ground. They disappeared beneath the bright red Ford Fiesta parked in the driveway.

Elle felt the anxiety that had been whirling within her fade away with the wind as it whispered past. She was surprised she didn't feel more panicked by that new information, but the mention of the Dakota case made Elle think the police must be clutching at straws.

What reason could they have to bring an eighteen-year-old case back to light, other than because they were searching for links? It was something to think about. Maybe there was another reason. She wouldn't know.

Elle headed back into her house in better spirits. She locked the door behind her and checked the handle, and then she strolled back towards the couch. Her tea would be getting cold.