Brittany Martinez leaned against the counter in her local restaurant.
“Let me get this straight. You want me to kill your husband?” the restauranteur said.
“You appreciate we only cook food?”
“I have cash and a picture of my husband,” she said taking out an envelope from her bag. “I don’t care who kills him, but it’s got to be done today. The cash is from our joint account. If my husband finds it missing, he’ll wanna know where it is.”
The restauranteur shrugged and took the envelope saying, “I can see where that can be kinda awkward.”
By Vincent Holland
Inspired by the case of Brittany Martinez – http://blogs.houstonpress.com