Sand

Jennifer loved the sand.

It felt warm on the soles of her feet as she walked towards the water.

She loved how it clung to her for hours afterward, painting over her sun burnt thighs.

She loved how it moved in the wind, forming little harmless twisters dancing about.

Most of all, she loved that it was easy to displace and easier still to put back.

She loved how it followed you around, revealing your revelry to your unsuspecting wife.

It was easy to dig holes on the beach.

Expected even.

Jennifer had finished digging an hour ago.

She listened to the seagulls fighting over the scraps of one of their cousins.

She dug her wet feet into the sand as she devoured a spoonful of Mint Chocolate chip ice cream.

This was to die for.

She watched as a couple sped by on jet skis in the distance, too far to make out faces, but she knew them just the same.

Especially their laughs.

she wanted to ask Paul and Susan what was so funny ? She wanted to laugh.

She felt a surge of irritation and took a sip of water.

Hydration was important.

It cleansed the body of all impurities.

It was the best drink, so healthy and the recommended choice for taking sleeping pills.

She should know, she could never sleep without them.

After they passed, it was relatively quiet again.

Only the welcome sounds of nature remained.

The sound of the waves calmed her; she leaned back and pulled out her heavily annotated book.

Even though this was her third read-through, she was so engrossed that she almost missed the start of the celebrations.

Only the fading light nudged her to look up.

The sky was a lovely purple shade, the sun sinking below the waves.

The public part of the beach was close enough to hear the cheers as the party started.

Jennifer looked at her watch; the fireworks would start in eight minutes.

She put her copy of Eat, Pray, Love in her bag and pulled on her gloves as she walked towards the house she had been watching for seven days.

Coincidentally, it was the same house her Husband was staying at for his “work trip.”

She had done some research and discovered that the woman that was with him was his secretary.

That the conference they were attending was a one day virtual event.

She would be sure to ask him why he needed to bring his accountant along with him for a seven day trip to a virtual conference.

She had lots of questions for him actually.

Why they were spending every moment in town together?

Why she stayed over every night?

Why Jennifer now know what her moans sounded like?

Watching the love of her life eating meals off of this homewreckers plate had been enough to seal the deal; but hearing the evidence of their joy had her whistling while she sharpened her knives.

She remembered the sand she found in his car after he returned from his trip to Iowa.

Which was funny. She had not known there were anything other than potatoes in Iowa, let alone white-sand beaches.

It had piqued her curiosity enough to find this house he owned here in Hell, Grand Cayman.

She had been inside the home twice so far.

Slipping in after Susan had gone for her run.

She had considered waking Paul up then and handling this maturely.

But she took one look at him sleeping peacefully with a smile on his face, and decided that his life had been to calm as it was.

She broke the lock on the backdoor and unlocked the windows just in case.

She took a look in the kitchen taking stock of the inventory: cheap wine, expensive cheese, lobsters, shrimp, and icecream.

That asshole had bought her favorite kind of ice cream!

She hid a couple of knives around the home just in case things did not go to plan. She went out back and here at least was the Paul she knew, he had not gotten around to cleaning this mess up either.

She tossed some items out of a wheelbarrow, she took a shovel and bucket from the shed and left.

The second time had been earlier today, she had only been in long enough to ensure that she could still get inside and to swap out the wine left chilling in a bucket on the counter.

She stole the ice cream for good measure.

It really was a lovely day, here in Hell, she thought as she walked into the house.

She was greeted with sounds of laughter and running water.

They were in the shower together.

The house was cluttered, with clothes and food wrappers on the floor.

The wine was uncorked and breathing on the table - unnecessary as it had already been opened, but to their credit they did not know that.

In the bedroom a pair of rusted handcuffs sat near a spreader bar and a whip.

Wow, guess someone was not as vanilla as he had led her to believe.

She hid under the bed and waited.

She could hear them talking and expressing entirely too much joy.

She waited, staring at the small piles of sand gathered in the corner unrepentant.

The voices had stopped, she waited still.

Jennifer had almost fallen asleep when she heard the shattering of glass.

Sometime later, she smoothed over the hole, humming along with Carry Underwood blasting in her ears.

The fireworks were still going off, which was too long for her tastes, but she shouldn’t complain.

The sounds had been helpful.

A group of crows watched as she peeled off her gloves, changed her clothes, and packed up her things.

She patted the sand one more time, happy that it at least would be with her for the days to come.

She returned the wheelbarrow and shovel back to the home and cleaned up the broken glass, all had gone as planned.

She cleaned the door knobs and wheel barrow although it was likely unnecessary.

The drugs had done their job, she had been able to bring both of them to the hole without too much effort.

The only casualty of note was the wine glass Susan dropped when her muscles stopped working.

Susan likely would have died without any more work, Jennifer slit her throat more out of pleasure than necessity.

Paul had been heavy, and semi conscious.

She stabbed him in the stomach.

"uggh"

The thigh.

"Stop"

The Crotch.

"Jenny... please..."

Jennifer tipped him into the hole on top of his girlfriend.

The sand was heavy, as she buried her husband's pleas.

But her burdens were light.

She had felt nothing but joy as their lives seeped into the sand.

She packed up the uneaten dinner to take with her - waste not, want not.

She walked out into the warm night the fireworks finally over.

She took the long way to the hotel she had rented in cash under a fake name, enjoying the sand on her feet.

In the morning she would take a Cruise to Mexico that a friend had arranged for her to take without credentials. A short drive to the border and a simple hop of a fence to her uncles Ranch in Arizona. She would rest a bit and then just be able to make her return flight to New York City

No one would ever prove that she had left the country, let alone murdered two people.

The only souvenir she would bring back was whatever sand clung to her through her travels.

It had been a perfect day.

Jennifer loved the sand.

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