Judged by E. H. Reinhard Read Free Book Online

favor.”
    Quincy said nothing.
    “You have some knives around here that I could probably use right? Maybe I’ll get you good and drugged up and then take a toe here or an arm there. Chop off your manhood—that’s a must. Or you could just write down what you need to write down, and we can finish this up.”
    “What are you getting out of this? Who sent you?”
    “No one. I just want you to confess. It’s good for the soul. You write down your confession, and I’ll leave.”
    “Without killing me?”
    “You’ll be alive when I go,” Tim said.
    “Are you serious?”
    “I’m serious.”
    Quincy grabbed the notepad and started writing. “What was her name?” he asked.
    “Amy Cowan. And you should remember the people you kill by their name. Calling her a rich white bitch after you killed her is disrespectful.”
    “Man, that girl knew what she was doing. You shoot heroin, you take chances.”
    “Maybe. Either way, you made my list, so now I’m here. Write down when and where you met her, what you sold her, and all of that. If you have anything else to confess, you can include that as well.”
    Quincy paused with the pen’s tip touching the paper. “What do you mean list ? How did I make your list?”
    “You don’t need to worry about that part of it,” Tim said.
    “Are you giving this to the cops or something?”
    “No.”
    “What, you take some kind of pleasure in making people confess to shit?”
    “No,” Tim said.
    “Then what am I doing this for? Who is this for?”
    “It’s for you. Just keep writing.”
    Tim remained at the edge of the tub and watched Quincy craft his letter.
    “There, I’m done. Take this shit and leave.” Quincy held out the notepad.
    “Did you sign your name?” Tim asked.
    “No.”
    “Sign it at the bottom.”
    Quincy did and held it out.
    “Turn it toward me so I can read it,” Tim said.
    Quincy did as instructed.
    Tim glanced over the words as he reached out and pressed down the plunger of one of the needles hanging from the man’s midsection. “I find you guilty. Your sentence is death.”
    Quincy mumbled something prior to closing his eyes.
    Tim thumbed down the rest of the syringes one by one and stood from his position at the edge of the tub. He stopped in the doorway as he was walking out and looked back at Quincy. The man was convulsing in the tub.
    “I’m leaving, and you’re still technically alive,” Tim said. “A man of my word.” He walked from the bathroom and the house.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    I cracked my eyes open and stared at my phone, lit up and buzzing on the nightstand separating the two queen beds in my room. I’d instructed Karen to call me back in ten minutes when she’d woken me ten minutes prior. I reached over, grabbed it, and clicked Talk.
    “Hey, babe.”
    “So I’m your personal snooze button now?” she asked.
    “Yup.” I kicked my legs off the side of the bed, reached over, and clicked the button to turn on a lamp. “I needed the extra ten minutes.”
    “Late night?”
    “Not really. I ended up watching some movie after we talked. Figured I’d fall asleep to it but didn’t.”
    “What’s on the agenda today?” she asked.
    “Heading over to the field office to start digging into this list of possible suspects. The agent in charge here, Couch, was going to put together a little meeting this morning. He wanted Beth and me there”—I glanced over at the clock—“in about an hour. I think we’ll split the list up a bit and then start conducting some interviews. I also wanted to get with this latest victim’s coworkers. Maybe I’ll take care of that first. Probably wouldn’t be the worst idea.”
    “You think a coworker might have had something to do with it, or…?”
    “Not really. I just wanted to see if anyone he worked with was familiar with his routine.”
    “Ah,” Karen said. “Okay, I need to run here. Just wanted to say good morning. I’m going to be in and out of the office all day in meetings.