Page 14 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)

THE TWELVE Ben’s Tavern was the perfect spot for a meeting. The dank atmosphere lent itself to dark, furtive deeds and conversations. The anticipation of the evening’s entertainment had given me a much-needed break from life’s monotony.

Boredom was my nemesis.

I soon found the others, huddled in a corner, silent as the grave, and undoubtedly waiting for me, seeing as I was the last to arrive. Drinks sat untouched on the table, their owners staring at them.

“Good evening.” I took stock of the tavern’s clientèle. Thankfully there were few patrons, which suited me just fine. What I had to say was intended for a select audience.

They greeted me with nods or muttered words. No sooner had I taken a seat than Greg pounced.

“Okay, none of you are going to be stupid enough to tell me Scott’s murder was a coincidence, not after the way we were talking the night of the party.”

No one said a word, including myself. I was too busy enjoying their startled expressions. Come to think of it, they all looked as though they hadn’t slept for a week.

I had no such trouble. I always slept like a baby.

Greg stared at the circle of faces. His was pale even in the dismal lighting. “So… which of you did it?”

Keeping a straight expression took a supreme effort.

Four pairs of eyes gaped at Greg, and the silence was palpable.

At last Jennifer Sullivan spoke, an edge of outrage in her voice. “You think it was one of us ?”

“It had to be,” Greg remonstrated.

I couldn’t resist yanking his chain. I gave a shrug. “Unless it was you, and this is all for show.”

Greg’s eyes bulged. “Me? I didn’t kill him. I could never….” His Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. “You read about how he died, right?”

My heartbeat quickened as I folded my arms and gave another shrug. I was more than ready to throw the cat among the pigeons.

“Well, if you want to be accurate,” I said in a low voice, “he died because I injected him with a massive dose of ketamine. Then I planted the ax in his head, right through his mouth as a matter of fact.” I beamed. “ That wiped the smile from his face.”

Their horror was so delicious, it was all I could do not to laugh my ass off.

Brad Mitchell gaped at me. “Oh my God. You’re serious.”

“Bingo.” I smiled at Greg. “Has your plan worked, by the way?”

Greg’s face went slack. “What? What are you talking about?”

I blinked. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.

You know, your plan to be your stepfather’s sole choice to take over the running of his empire.

How did Owen take Scott’s death? Is he going to lean on you?

Is your position now stronger?” Another shrug.

“You have to admit, there are positives to this.” I leaned back and delivered the coup de grace.

“Of course, technically, you all did it.”

Amy Walsh’s face was the color of milk. “What do you mean?”

I examined my perfectly manicured fingernails. “Maybe I left some… evidence at the crime scene. Something that incriminates each of you.”

A bold lie, but hey, they didn’t know that.

Jason Kelly’s appalled expression was almost comical. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Yet another shrug, a habit I needed to get out of. It showed a lack of imagination. “I liked our discussion. In fact, it gave me an idea, something I’d like to share with you.” I flashed them a polite smile. “A proposal, you might say.”

Brad let out a strangled noise. “What makes you think we’re going to sit here and listen to any proposal of yours? Dude, you’ve just confessed to murdering someone. What’s to stop any of us from leaving here and finding the nearest cop?”

“You’re quite welcome to do that if you wish, but if you do, then I make a call, telling the police where to find evidence that a certain student called… let’s say Brad Mitchell… killed Scott McCarthy.”

Greg narrowed his gaze. “You’re bluffing.”

I smiled. “If I’m resourceful enough to procure ketamine, to murder someone with an ax, and leave no clues to incriminate myself, I’m perfectly capable of finding physical evidence to incriminate all of you.”

Brad’s mouth fell open. “But none of us were anywhere near Boston that day. We can prove it. You know where we were—you gave us the damn tickets, remember?”

I held up a finger. “Ah, but wait. Greg can, sure. He was caught on camera.” I gave Greg a glance of approval.

“I hadn’t expected that, by the way, but I’m sure I can explain it away somehow.

A late-night drive from New York, perhaps, timed to arrive at the moment Scott started his run.

” I stared at the others. “The same goes for the rest of you.”

They all appeared to be in shock, which was fine by me. I wanted them to listen anyway.

I clasped my hands on the table. “Now, why don’t you listen to my idea?

We all belong to the Mystery/Thriller Club.

Well, what I’m proposing is a different kind of club.

A Secret Murder Club. And I’m offering you a very special service.

I believe I alluded to it the night of the party.

” I let my gaze drift around the table. “I will eliminate anyone who threatens your future, either financially or by impeding your success, your career. Now, you might be fortunate. You might never encounter such an obstacle. But if you do….” I folded my arms once more.

“I will obliterate that obstacle, leaving nothing to connect the murder to you.”

Jennifer was the first to speak. “This is a gag, isn’t it?” she croaked.

I gestured to her glass. “You appear to have a frog in your throat. That might help.”

She ignored me. “You’ve got a camera set up someplace in here, and you’re recording this. Come on, tell me I’m right.” She held her hands up. “Fine. I’ll admit it. It’s a great gag. You got us. Now stop, because it isn’t funny anymore.”

I stared at her, saying nothing, and watched her shrink away from me.

Amy made a choking sound. “Oh my God, you’re serious.”

I snickered. “Brad already said that. Couldn’t you come up with something more original?

Of course I’m serious.” I leaned forward again.

“Now, back to the matter in hand. You may decide not to take me up on my generous offer. That’s your prerogative.

But if that’s your decision, you are bound to secrecy to reveal nothing about the murder of Scott McCarthy.

” I gave them all a cold stare, aiming to put as much menace in my glance as I could.

“Tell anyone , and I will happily point them in the direction of evidence that will convict you.” I softened my gaze.

“But you’d be wise not to brush aside my proposal.

Because one day, you may find there’s someone in your path that you can’t remove.

” I smiled. “But I can. What’s more, I’ll be happy to do it.

None of you is capable of murder, so take advantage of the fact that I most definitely am. ”

I sat back and waited for their reaction.

Jennifer stared at me, eyes wide. “Now wait a minute. You just said you’re happy to do this. I’m happy to help my dad clean out the gutters, but I don’t want to do it. Why would you want to do this?”

I returned her stare. “To quote Lady Bracknell in The Importance of Being Earnest , ‘A man should always have an occupation of some kind.’ Maybe this kind of occupation suits me down to the ground.”

Maybe it’s what I was born to do.

Greg’s brows knitted. “What’s the catch? Because there has to be one. What onerous task do we have to perform for you?”

The first crack in the mask of outrage and horror.

I smiled. “That’s easy. You never mention me. Ever. There can be nothing that connects me to any of you.” I rose. “I’ll leave you to discuss it. I don’t expect to meet any of you again—unless, of course, you decide otherwise.”

And with that, I walked out of the tavern.

Sure, one or more of them might contact the police, but I didn’t think so. And if they did, the police would never catch me. The prospect of any of them accepting my offer excited me more than anything had since….

Well, since the murder of Scott McCarthy.