Gotcha, asshole. “I know it’s yours.”
“What the fuck are you babbling about?”
“I saw a shirt with the same logo on it in your room the other day.” She smiled. “You know, from the exclusive men’s club in your hometown of Tennessee. The one that doesn’t allow women, or other marginalized groups. And we’re pretty sure that Randall has never set foot in Tennessee much less your precious men’s club, to which we know you sit on the board.”
Lee’s face hardened.
“Did you not think we’d want to know what that oak tree was all about? Did you seriously think we were that dumb?”
Lee relaxed and smiled as if she’d relieved him of some great burden. “I suppose I should be impressed, but I’m not. I simply made a mistake, but no matter. You’re still going to die and I’m still going to get away with it because I have the means to disappear. I already have a new identity waiting for me.” He lifted the knife. “I’ll see you in hell.”