The restauranteur hit man

The restauranteur hit man

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.

Mar­tinez nodded.

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​.hous​ton​press​.com

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.

Martinez nodded.

“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