The Soup Factory

By Billly Wittenberg

Camile is a first-year nurse, struggling to make ends meet. She's just ended an abusive relationship and started dating someone new. She's full of life and hope for the future.

 

That all changes when a black-clad stranger attacks her and renders her unconscious. She wakes up gagged and in chains and with no idea where she is. When her kidnapper returns-pistol in hand-he tells her he's been hired to kill her.

 

And he's not working alone.

 

Armed with only her wits and guile, Camile must escape her bonds and elude her attackers through a nightmare estate. One wrong move and she'll meet a gruesome fate. Through it all, one thought runs through her mind.

 

Someone she knows wants her dead.

 

The Soup Factory is an action and suspense thriller that will keep you guessing to the very end. If you like white-knuckle action and edge-of-your-seat suspense, you'll love Billy Wittenberg's page-turning novella

Pick up your copy of The Soup Factory today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Buffalo Bayou Publishing LLC
• Release date: Oct 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215571163

Book preview

The Soup Factory

Billy Wittenberg

Buffalo Bayou Publishing

Contents

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Chapter Nineteen

A Murder on the Border

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About The Author

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Copyright

Chapter 1

Camile

I’m… a little surprised, Camile Martinez said. Her cheeks and ears warmed as her slender fingers twirled her curly black hair. Her boyfriend, Tony Williams, sat opposite her at a dinner table covered by a spotless white tablecloth.

Really? You thought I’d ghost you? he said. The light from the crackling fire beside them shone on his slick black hair, and a five o’clock shadow darkened his square jaw. He wore a charcoal-gray business suit and cobalt tie. He gave her that same boyish grin that always dimpled his cheeks and often sparkled on her television screen. His brown eyes shone along with it.

I don’t know. She shrugged. Two days had passed since she made the big phone call. The call that had upended relationships and lives. Tony was a busy man. Waiting for a reply was normal. But two days had left her disheartened. It’s just… some guys do. You know? I’m not like your other friends.

She grew up a gangly kid in a hardscrabble neighborhood on Houston’s east side, and she now nursed at a local hospital. He was one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, born into a prestigious family. He worked as a corporate lawyer at a high-priced law firm and had recently added city councilman to his impressive resume. His Facebook feed included photos of him partying with professional athletes and musicians. Hers still showed Candy Crush updates. The difference in their positions had hung over her head since they’d began dating.

Well, I think I proved you wrong. Another grin as he spread his arms.

Dinner was at La Parrilla, a fine dining establishment inside Houston’s opulent River Oaks community. White-jacketed waiters served Camile’s snapper and shrimp paella on a stone-fired plate along with her virgin daiquiri. She soaked in the restaurant’s warm earth tones and Spanish decor. The new hot spot for the casual rich to dine in public. An evening worthy of a celebration.

Hey, Tony said as he reached his arm across the table. She extended her olive-skinned hand to grasp it. I’m not going anywhere. Alright? We’re in this together.

Unexpected tears welled in her eyes. She had girded herself for rejection. Now she considered the possibility of a shared life with Tony. His family had high hopes for him. He might end up mayor. Or governor. There was no ceiling on his prospects. And she would be at his side.

Alright, she said, and wiped her eyes.

Now, eat up. He sat back and nodded at her uneaten paella. Our baby is hungry.

She patted her flat tummy and smiled.

Dinner and conversation continued as waiters took empty plates, freshened drinks, and brought tiramisu for dessert. The two of them clicked their glasses and drank to their unborn child. If it was a girl, she’d be named Ariel. A boy would be Anthony Jr., of course.

Tony paid the check, and they walked out the front door. A cool November breeze chilled Camile’s skin. She had chosen a paisley blouse that exposed her slim shoulders and denim jeans that accentuated the few curves her petite form allowed. Her black leather boots completed the outfit. Nothing too formal. Fun and cute. He followed her to her car parked at the far end of the parking lot and faced her. He stood a foot taller than her, with a runner’s square jaw. They held hands under a cloudless black sky.

I… wish we could spend the night together. His eyes winced with regret. But I’m expected at an awards presentation downtown. Scholarships for kids. It’s part of the job.

I understand. She nodded through her disappointment. This would have to do. At least now she needn’t tell her Catholic parents she was going to be a single mom. Someday soon, she would accompany Tony to all his awards presentations. He pulled her close, ignoring the stares of a couple stepping out of their truck.

It’s you and me now. OK? he whispered.

Forever.

His velvety lips pressed against hers. The proverbial hot knife melting butter. This was no longer the thrill of young romance. This was the thrill for their shared future. He pulled away with a smile.

I’ll call you tomorrow, he said.

OK.

He waved as she reversed her car from its parking space. She watched him in her rearview mirror with a wide, dreamy smile on her lips. She exited the parking lot, passed sprawling mansions, and drove down Dunlavy Street in a blissful daze. Camile may as well have floated home. Even the ringing of her cell phone couldn’t break the spell. When the incoming call window appeared on her car’s dashboard display, she absently clicked ANSWER without looking at the caller ID.

Hello?

Camile?

The spell was broken. Shit. It was Samuel, her ex-boyfriend. Always perfect with his rotten timing. She cringed at the memory of their last conversation three weeks earlier. It had ended with him angrily hanging up the phone. They had broken up six months ago, and he hadn’t gotten over it. He still called sometimes, hoping to rekindle their romance. But that relationship was dead and buried.

Oh, hey, Sam. She winced as a litany of excuses to end the call ran through her mind.

How are you? He sounded winded and hopeful.

I’m good, thanks. What’s up?

Oh. Uh, just left the gym. I was thinking about you and decided to call.

Uh, huh. Well, I’m actually—

You’re driving, he said.

Yeah. I am. Could we—

I’ll be quick. I know you don’t like to talk and drive.

And yet he would stay on the line, anyway. Classic Sam. Camile sighed. What’s on your mind, Sam?

I saw Tony on TV at the gym.

I’m hanging up now.

No, no, no! It’s cool. I wanted to tell you I’m OK with it. I’m happy for you.

Sam was a materialistic narcissist with an anger management disorder. That, coupled with his high paid financial analyst job, made him think his shit didn’t stink. Why she stayed with him for so long still puzzled her. Three long years of walking on eggshells and apologizing for his selfishness. The day she left him was one of the happiest days of her life. And now she was in a relationship with his polar opposite. Tony was sweet and considerate. A gentleman. Sam had exploded when he found out about him.

Really? she said, full of doubt. Why the change in heart?

Just making some changes in my life. I’m all better now. No time for hate.

Uh, huh. Well, I’m glad to hear that.

So, I thought maybe… we could meet and talk. Over coffee, y’know? I got big news.

Right now?

Just friends, C! I swear!

Camile groaned. "What