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Somewhere close by, I hear a twig snap, and I grin a little. I didn’t come alone, and I know exactly who is in the shadows, watching for what happens next. One man, a cop whose name I haven’t had the chance to even learn, steps out from behind a tree and gives me a nod. I nod back, and he dips behind the tree’s shadow again.
All the tweed curtains are drawn on the house, so I can’t see inside any of the windows. But Iknow he’s here, and as I round the back of the house, my suspicions are confirmed because there, parked in the small lot, is his cop car.
I know I can’t walk through the front door. That would be stupid. Instead, I head to a window on the side of the house. Carefully, quietly, I test to see if it’s unlocked. By some miracle, it is, and it slides open with ease.
Within seconds, I’m inside, squatting in a bedroom and listening to the crackle of the fire from the living room. At this point, I don’t care what happens next as long as justice reigns down on Smith. I don’t even care if I die too, but I’m taking this bastard with me. We can rot in hell together.
My feet are silent as they tread across the wood floor. The bedroom door is open, so at least, I won’t have to deal with the sound of hinges and latches. I steadily make my way out of the room and down the short hallway, following the sounds and smells of the fireplace.
Once I reach the living room, I spot Smith right away. He’s crouched in front of the fire, murmuring something to himself that isn’t loud enough to hear above the crackling flames. Resting against the wall, a few feet from him, is the shotgun.
I had come unarmed. Because I’m an ex-convict, it’s against my parole to own one. But there are other ways to get the job done than by using a gun.
“Is that what you killed her with?” I say clearly as a greeting.
In the crouched position, he whips around. The binder lies at his feet and I recognize a few of papers from it burning in the fire. As soon as he sees me, however, he jumps for his shotgun, scrambles with it for a moment, and then points it at me.
A normal person would be afraid, but today isn’t normal. Today isn’t like every other day.
“How did you find me?” he asks.
I only shrug. “It wasn’t that hard. You’re predictable, Smith.”
“Get out, or I’ll kill you!” he shouts.
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, seeming at ease, I rock back on my heels for a moment. “Like you killed your stepbrother? Like you killed Tegan?”
Even though the room is only lit by the fireplace, I can see his face pale. “I should shoot you anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because you murdered my cousin. An eye for an eye, Garner.”
I hold up a finger. “First, tell me why you did it. Why did you kill your stepbrother?”
Spittle flies from his mouth as he explains the will. “He was leaving me with nothing!”
I shake my head a little. “Then why not kill Derek instead of Neil? There’d be no one left to hand it all over to but you.”
His eyes narrow. I can tell he hadn’t thought of that at the time.
“That bastard just won’t die,” he grumbles.
My scowl matches my thoughts as I try to understand what the hell that means and draw up nothing. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m trying to kill him!” he shouts. “Derek just won’t die!”
And then it hits me, this mysterious illness that Derek seems to have, and my face relaxes as soon as it does. “You’re poisoning him.”
His jaw flexes once as he clenches his teeth. “Every damn visit.”
“Tea?”
He curtly nods.
“Three murders.” I blow out a whistle. “And here I thought I was the one with a one-way ticket to hell.”
He blubbers as if he doesn’t like to be labeled and on the same level as me. “You’ll have two murders if you succeed in killing me!”
