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The Mailbox by Anglea

The mail box never had anything I wanted so I went onto the next home. Usually I picked up a few interesting pieces from No 6, it was a busy household. But no 4 only ever contained a thin airmail so I knew there wasn't any cash. Until last Sunday that is. Brown envelope, thick. Tore it open around the corner of the block, $2,000.

I never realised the significance of what I'd done, not that day, nor that week. But first week in February I knew I was in trouble. The house had been under surveillance. Not by the good guys, cops. It was only my military training that kept me alive. I had to leave town. Fast.

Mr Sam Jones, the householder from No 4 always looked so normal. Boring. Never knew he was part of an international blackmail gang.

I wasn't going to forget this Febuary in a hurry.

Decided it was time to go somewhere warmer, maybe keep out of trouble.

As I got into my car, I felt something at the back of my neck.................

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