TRACKING DEVICE

June paced from one edge of the room to the other. She was used to fancy suites and luxurious rooms, not a damn old cabin. She sighed and sat by the edge of the bed.

The mere sight of the room was making her nauseous but what could she do? That was the only solution her Godfather could offer when her plan flopped.

She clenched her jaw as the image of Fred taking the shot for Sylvia wavered in her mind.

“Fuck!” the frustrated June yelled and kicked the tiny stool before her.

Soon, she was up on her feet and was back to pacing. She planned to gun down Sylvia and then elope to a hotel suite before she finally leaves the country.

What the fuck was she thinking when she pulled out that gun in public? Wondered June. She had planned to murder Sylvia in an enclosed location but time wasn't on her side and after Fred spoke about them being together, she couldn't think of anything than inviting the maid so that she could pull the trigger at her.

June slapped her face and stood before the smal