Page 65 of The Murder Club

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

Busy stuffing the money in his pocket, Kevin was distracted by a voice that destroyed the welcome silence. He froze, his mouth sucked dry, as he tried to determine whether the voice was a product of his imagination. Very likely, he tried to reassure himself. Just last week he was sure he could hear church bells ringing. When he complained about them his bitch of a wife had told him that he was losing his mind.

Forcing his feet to turn him toward the door, Kevin felt another jolt of shock when he caught sight of the shadowed form. There was someone in the house. He didn’t know whether to be relieved he wasn’t losing his mind or worried that he’d been followed. It was possible he owed more than one dealer some serious cash.

“Who the hell is there?” He narrowed his eyes, trying to peer through the gloom. At last he recognized the face that was partially obscured by the heavy hood of his sweatshirt. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”

“I like this location.” The intruder strolled forward, looking wildly out of place in the bedroom, with its fake marble paneling and Louis XIV–style furniture. The bed was draped in a gold comforter that sparkled when the overhead chandelier was switched on. It was no doubt intended to be classy, but it was a gaudy mess as far as he was concerned. Nothing in the room had any substance. Like his grandmother, it was all about surface impressions. “It reminds me of a tomb.”

“You’re right.” Kevin released a humorless laugh. “I should have had the old bat buried here and saved myself a few thousand dollars on her funeral.”

“You’re not grieving for your grandmother?”

Kevin shoved the necklace and wedding ring into his pocket, telling himself that the pang in the center of his chest had nothing to do with Pauline Hartford or her unexpected death. He wasn’t going to miss her. He wasn’t, dammit.

“Why should I grieve?” he scoffed. “She wouldn’t have given a shit if I died. I don’t think she cared about anything but her reputation. If they knew her like I did . . .” He allowed his words to trail away with a restless shrug.

The intruder took a step closer. “Did she tear you down, Kevin? Maybe make you feel less?”

“She was a ruthless nag.” Kevin squared his shoulders as the words reminded him of the price his grandmother demanded for her love. “Just like my wife.”

“Yes, women are the bane of men’s existence,” his companion purred.

“Can’t live with ’em, can’t kill ’em. Am I right?”

“No.”

Kevin frowned. “What?”

“You said, can’t live with them, can’t kill them. But you can live without them and you most certainly can kill them.”

Kevin replayed the words in his head, trying to decide if he’d misheard them. When he finally accepted that’s what the intruder had said, he forced out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Is that a joke?”

“Who would joke about murder?”

Kevin was abruptly aware of the heaviness in the air. As if some sort of evil had crept in when he wasn’t looking. Was it his grandmother’s ghost? It would be just his luck to have the bitch crawling out of her grave to make his life a misery.

“Well, it takes all kinds, I guess,” he muttered, moving forward only to come to a sharp halt when the intruder refused to move. “Look, I gotta get out of here.”

“I thought we might have a chat.”

“Now?” A tremor raced through Kevin. His stomach was curling with a familiar sickness. He needed to get to his dealer. “I got stuff to do.”

“You’re in a hurry?”

“I hate this place. Like you said. It’s like a tomb in here.”

“Probably because it is.”

“What is what?” Kevin struggled to concentrate. Had the intruder moved closer? It felt as if he was being crowded.

“This place is a tomb.” An eerie laugh floated through the room. “At least for you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but—” Kevin’s words ended on a shriek as there was a blur of movement and the intruder was behind him, circling his arm around Kevin’s neck to put him in a choke hold. He hadn’t considered the possibility that he might be in danger, but it seemed he wasn’t the only one who wanted the cash and jewelry left behind by his grandmother. “Shit, just take the stuff,” he rasped, a darkness closing in as his throat was painfully being crushed.

He felt a stir of air next to his ear before there was a sharp jab of a needle plunging into the inner flesh of his arm.