Time to Try

The morning after, Bexii was in Pete's apartment, she wore her favourite outfit. New favourite, one Lyndon had bought for her from Harrods. After she had stopped him complaining about the mass of people. A red dress, a black bow around the waist. Simple, effective. On her feet she wore her favourite boots, black, the heel now a pointed spike. The doorbell stunned her into the real world. She stepped out of her role as an imaginary fashion critic and opened the door. A young man stood donning a police uniform. "Mrs Johnson-"
"No, Miss Sommers."
"Oh, does Mr Pete Johnson live here?"
"He used to."
"He's moved?"
"No, well. I dont know. You'd better come in." The young man thanked her and entered the small apartment, he glanced around trying to find something to admire, thats how people did these things she was sure. A conversation starter. He'd not find one of those here. "Take a seat. I insist." She combed her locks with her fingers, as with all his eyes fixed to her. He stuttered before his voice kicked into action.
"Ms Sommerspp"
"He's dead?"
She couldnt tell if she sounded too pleased about that, if that was indeed the case.
"Oh no miss. Nothing so sinister." Though his eyes remained firmly focused upon her cleavage, his voice falterd, clearly surprised a woman of her standing would think of such things. "We'd like to speak to him in connection with a murder that occured-"
"You think he did it?"
"We think he may know something miss."
"Right."
The young officer stood, looked around again. "You sure he's not here?"
"I'm sure. I'd have told you if he was." That damn innocent smile, it burned her mouth.
"Well, you'll contact us if he shows up?"
"Of course,"
She was about to allow the officer to leave when his radio sounded. She understood little of the cops radio speak, only recognised the name. His name rang alarms, why were they wanting to visit Lyndon? Of course, she knew all about the hotel room, about the murder. She knew about Lyndon, about his job. Were they going to arrest him? With precise accuracy and the perfect timing she landed the sharpened heel hard into the mans leg, ripping the flesh. He cried out in pain and hit the ground, a quick front kick sent him onto his back. She smiled sweetly, placed the heel against his throat, She ignored his plees as she ripped the skin, watching the blood. Moving quickly she packed and left. A quick text confirmed she had help:

Lyndon, hunni. If I was in trouble, you'd be there right?

Of course.

I need your help.

She'd sad no more, they'd simply arranged to meet in Green Park. He'd be in a bench, wearing jeans and a t shirt, a red coat. She headed quickly in that direction. She had to warn him of the situation. The police wanted to speak to someone like him, this could never end well. Not for either of them.