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This was a daring plan and Eve knew it. She was waiting at a bar for Vilanelle, wearing a fitted midnight blue dress, her hair cascading over her shoulders, concealing the microphone wire.
If she could get Villanelle to meet, then they could trap her. Nobody had wanted to be the one to do it but, now she was sitting here, she felt a nervous excitement. Eve fidgeted.
Eve felt a hand at her throat.
“Let’s just cut this…”
Eve whimpered as the wire was cut. Villanelle’s hands moved down to her breasts, caressing. Eve panted.
“Now we can talk.”