Page 46 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)
I HAVE to admit, I thought I was done with my Secret Murder Club.
There’d been no word from any of them since I dispatched Jason’s wife.
What delighted me most about that one? I’d been right.
Talk about a landslide. Jason Kelly had been elected on a tsunami of public sympathy.
Maine’s citizens had been captivated by the tragic narrative of a devoted wife murdered in cold blood.
Yeah, devoted my ass.
They had no idea of the lengths their senator had been willing to go to in order to achieve his lifelong ambition. Not that he’d ever thanked me. None of them had.
Hell, I didn’t want their thanks, but it would’ve been nice if they’d shown one iota of gratitude.
Amy’s call came right out of the blue. Of all of them, I thought she would have been the only one not to take me up on my offer.
I guess times change. So do people. Maybe she had fewer scruples. And as it turned out, yeah, her scruples were almost nonexistent.
I waited for her to speak, curious to know who she wanted dispatched. There could be no other reason for her call.
“Hey. It’s Amy Walsh. From UMass? How are you doing?”
That cheery, false bonhomie made my skin crawl.
“You didn’t call me to check up on my health and well-being, did you? Or to wish me a happy Thanksgiving.”
“I-I need your help.”
I reached for a notepad and pen. “Okay, I’m listening.”
I scribbled down notes, laughing to myself.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen . Sweet little Amy had been sneakily passing valuable tech secrets to a rival firm in exchange for the promise of a key executive position.
It had all been going swimmingly until a perceptive and equally sneaky coworker stumbled upon Amy’s deceitful actions.
Blackmail. Such an ugly little word, but entirely appropriate.
The guy, Jeff Murphy, had confronted her, demanding she arrange for him a similar high-ranking position with Amy’s soon-to-be new employer. And if she didn’t?
Can you spell unemployment? Scandal? Maybe even jail time?
She’d dug a huge hole for herself, and now she wanted me to get her out of it.
“So… can you help me? Not that I’m happy about doing this. I still feel so guilty about Brad.”
I snorted. “You can’t have it both ways. Now, do you want me to rub this guy out?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. Give me whatever details you can about him, and I’ll do the rest. And when I’m ready, I’ll let you know what to do to make sure you’re not connected to his death. When were you expecting this new high-powered job to start?”
“Next year. Late January or early February.”
Yeah, I had plenty of time to come up with something.
“Okay. I’ll make some plans.” Then I realized she was still on the line. “Unless there’s someone else who’s a threat. If that’s the case, I think you’re being a little greedy.”
“Of course there’s only one. You think I do this sort of thing all the time? It’s just that… this all seems kinda one-sided. Is there anyone you want… taking care of?”
I laughed. “Why? Are you offering to help me?” I didn’t wait for a response. “No, there’s no one in my way.”
Not anymore.
“You mean like Brad was?”
Okay, that was a low blow. “I think we’re done.”
“Wait!”
I waited.
“So… how will you… kill Jeff?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” That was the truth. A few hours later, with a good bottle of wine and a couple of movies for inspiration, it might be a very different story.
“Which murder will you copy this time?”
I grinned. “Aw, you noticed. I’m touched. Like I said, I haven’t decided. The first you’ll know about it is when you read it in the papers.” Now I really was done.
I hung up.
To be honest, her call couldn’t have come at a better time. I’d been contemplating killing down-and-outs, hookers, anyone who pissed me off, really.
Hey, it worked for Patrick Bateman, my mentor. And if it was good enough for him….
I glanced at the notes I’d taken. One item stood out.
Could I use that?
Hell, I wasn’t thinking about fucking the guy. Not my game at all. But it could prove useful as a way to get close to him.
I grinned. Jeff Murphy was in for the screw of his life.
The last screw.