Vendetta in Death (In Death 49)

His head lolled again so she had to give him a good slash with the prod across his cheek. His scream tore the air like claws.

She didn’t mind a bit.

“Say you’re a cheat.”

“I’m a cheat.”

The words, barely audible, garbled, pleased her.

“A liar.”

“Yes, yes, a liar.” A fit of coughing had him gasping for air. “Please, I need water. Please, have mercy.”

“A thief. Say it, say it!” She shouted the words like triumph. “You’re a thief. A cheating, lying thief who stole from his wife to live on her money with a whore.”

“I—I stole from my wife.”

“You cheated on her, lied to her, stole from her, tossed her aside like she was nothing. Say it all!”

He struggled and wept his way through it.

She walked away again as he hung limp, half-conscious. And brought back the bucket and the knife.

“Now say her name. The name of the woman you betrayed.”

“Darla,” he mumbled. He opened his swollen eyes. “Please let me go. You said you’d let me go.”

“I did, didn’t I? Say her name again. Loudly, clearly.”

“Darla.”

She smiled at him. “Look at me now. Look right at me. Guess what, Thaddeus. I lied.”

She used the knife.

Eve’s communicator jolted her out of sleep. As she groped for it, Roarke ordered the lights on at ten percent.

“Block video. Dallas.”

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. The mutilated body of an adult male at 26 Vandam, probable connection to previous homicide. Officers on scene.

“Acknowledged. On my way. Contact Peabody, Detective Delia. Dallas, out.”

She leaped out of bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

While the c

at complained, she sprinted into the bathroom, into the shower. Thirty seconds later, she stepped out as Roarke handed her a mug of coffee, then stepped in.

“I’m going with you.”

“There’s no need for—”

“I’m with you.”

Rather than argue, she hit the drying tube, gulping coffee as the warm air swirled.

Moving fast, she hurried to her closet, grabbed clothes at random. Since it was easiest, she went with black all the way.