Mary Alice Eckerson was a natural born saleswoman. As a child she’d run a lemonade stand. It wasn’t enough for her so she added a line of cupcakes (made by her mother) and baseball cards (stolen from her brother). From Kool-aid to cars to condos, she built a career one sale at a time. At thirty-one she still got carded for alcohol, hadn’t settled down, and could make any man she met buy whatever she wanted.
“Mary, I got a bad one.” Her boss, Lou, leaned back in his leather chair and tossed her a folder. Mary thumbed through the house pictures it contained.
“Doesn’t look bad. What’s the deal?”
“Murder.”
“Okay, worse, but not insurmountable.”
“Sorry, I meant murders.”
Mary blinked.
“A couple?”
Lou nodded. “Butchered. Within days of moving in.”
“Not good.”
“It sold again, after that, to as single woman. She didn’t last one night.” Lou held up one finger.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Bulldoze the damn thing! It can’t be done. Not for a profit anyway.” Mary put the folder down.
“Well, sure. That’s what I thought. Then, I thought; Mary. I thought about how Mary is always saying she can unload anything, no matter what. Mary, my golden saleswoman. So I figure, let her give it a shot. Unless, of course, you think you can’t do it, hun.”
Mary didn’t like it, the task or his demeaning tone, but hell if she’d give Lou the satisfaction of telling her she couldn’t do something.
“I’ll make it happen, hun.”
“You’re an angel.”
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What fate lurks in the cursed house for our prize saleswoman? Find the rest of the short HERE on my Patreon.
