Killing Katie (An Affair With Murder) (Volume 1) (32 page)

The money was great, but we had a problem. We couldn’t get paid. Our money was stuck somewhere in the vast and dark electron world of the World Wide Web.
It’s circulating as Bitcoins,
Nerd explained.
Internet currency just waiting to be converted and cashed in.
But he had an idea about how to solve that, and promised a solution in the coming days. If he was right, I’d finally be able to show Steve a paycheck for all of my work. Of course, he didn’t know about the murder part of the job—except for the homeless man, that is. I’d explained to him that I’d taken a start-up idea to a nerdy computer fellow and that we’d made some progress and had a few sales. He’d given me a cautious look, meant as a warning, but chose not to say anything. He seemed to be satisfied enough.

Ghoul’s pace changed then, shifting and pulling my attention back to why I was here. His step quickened and his hands snapped together as his fixation on the playground intensified. He seemed agitated. I saw the little girl with the pigtails walking away from the playground, and I knew my window of opportunity was closing.

The old stone pavers lining the street were slick, smoothed by years of footsteps, and I carefully walked across them, approaching Ghoul without his suspecting me. Another squeal came from the playing children and his face lit up in response. A row of yellowing teeth peered through his lips while he scratched his stubbly chin, darting his glances from child to child. He’d surely picked another victim, having given up on Pigtails. I reached down to playfully twist Needle, but then remembered I’d left my assassin’s ring in the car. Nerd had given it to me, and Ghoul would be the first to receive what would surely be its short but painful death.

I thought back to when Nerd first showed me the new toy to accompany this case. He’d outdone himself this time. Nerd had found every one of Ghoul’s records. All of them were on the state’s old computers, laying out in the open, waiting to be picked up by any curious eyes with a penchant for simple hacks. And while some had officially been sealed, we simply chose to ignore that legal term. Ghoul’s life had started in foster homes, where he set fires and even mutilated a family dog. From there he moved on to a detention center where the records stated he’d sodomized another boy. Soon after his eighteenth birthday, he’d been charged with his first sexual assault and was briefly sent away to the big-boy prison. But it was his medical condition that opened the door for an opportunity. Ghoul had a bad heart. He suffered from deadly arrhythmias. Nerd brought up images of a surgery showing an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator placed in a patient’s chest.
It’s like a pacemaker,
Nerd explained.
Regulates the electrical field of the heart.
And how did that help us? Ghoul’s last ICD implant was overdue for a replacement, leaving his heart vulnerable to arrhythmias. All I had to do was disrupt the electrical field to send his heart into sudden cardiac arrest.

When Nerd had finished showing me the images of an ICD implant, he produced a taser. It was shaped like a gun, but was the type with the shiny metal nipples. I’d need to get up close, touch the target to deliver an electrical shock.

“I boosted it too,” Nerd told me, a smile brimming across his face.

“What do you mean, boosted it?” I asked, intrigued.

“Stun guns are normally set to deliver a fixed charge, eighteen pulses per second, lasting five seconds. So I dialed it up. A lot.”

“How much?”

“I reworked it so that it delivers all the juice in under two seconds. That’s almost three times the power with a delivery that is three times shorter.” His smile was easy and satisfied, but I heard a hesitation in his voice.

“But?”

“It also means that you’ve only got one shot,” he answered, turning the stun gun around to hand it to me. “One shot. But it’ll be a hell of a shot. And hit him in the chest too. Just to make sure.”

Pain wasn’t our usual thing, but ensuring delivery in entirety was paramount. Nerd knew I was uncomfortable with the plan. I preferred poison, which had worked well for us in the past. “And you boosted this to make sure he dies?”

“Of course. Quicker delivery too. Could even be considered more humane.”

“Won’t I get a shock?” I asked, not wanting to sound stupid but also not wanting to die trying to kill the mark.

“Doesn’t work that way. His muscles will absorb all the electricity. None of it should pass to you.”

“None of it
should
?”

“None of it
will
pass to you.”

“I’ll make the shot count. What should I expect to see?”

Nerd sat back, closing his eyes, thinking. “If I had to guess, it should look like a heart attack, but I really don’t know. It could be bad, though, as in
Green Mile
bad where the French dude caught on fire and burned up in the electric chair.”

“What?” I asked, lifting my brow. “Seriously?”

Nerd waved off what he had said with a quiet laugh. “Kidding. But he’ll feel some punishment before his heart gives out.”

“A fitting punishment, indeed,” I whispered now, emptying my mind and concentrating on Ghoul, concentrating on the hit. I felt the outline of the stun gun, recalling all the instructions Nerd had given to me. Delivery meant both steel nipples touching—not just one. Both.
Press firmly and pull the trigger,
I heard in my head.
Lean him against a wall if you can.

A distant rumble came, taking Ghoul’s attention away from the playground. Cold air rushed over my skin as a shiver of pollen blew from the trees. A storm front was coming, and the first drop of rain hit my arm, blooming into a small wet flower before dripping away. Bruised clouds spiraled, folding in onto one another, turning the sky green and filling it with a humid electrical charge. A mix of hail and thick, wet drops tinkled on the tops of cars and the pavement. The pour was slow at first but then sped up like a game-show countdown, adding to the urgency. I only had a few minutes before the heaviest of the rainstorm would wash away my chances.

Parents rallied from the benches, surrounding the playground, clapping their hands, and calling out to gather their babies. The sizzle of electricity arced as white tendrils moved rhythmically from one side of the sky to the other like a ballet dancer crossing a stage. A bright-blue charge flashed overhead and staggered downward, ripping through the air before crashing into the trees just beyond the playground. Ghoul jumped, startled by the electric burst, but I kept my head down and my eyes level with his body. Parents yelled above the frightened shrieks of their children and Ghoul slumped his shoulders, knowing his opportunity was lost. His paced slowed, the enthusiasm gone from his step.

Another lightning bolt came with a sharp clap of thunder, landing close enough to raise the small hairs on my arms. The sudden severity of the storm distracted me. I almost let Ghoul walk by. I quickly ducked into a store’s doorway and called out to him, extending my arm into the pouring rain, pleading for his help, trying to play him like the homeless man had played me. Maybe he liked women too? Maybe he liked taking advantage of a damsel in distress? One could hope.

I’d put the bait out for him to see, waving my hand, my white skin glowing in the storm’s green light. I baited the hook. Ghoul slowed when he reached me, staring long and hard at my dangling fingers. He ran his tongue over his lips and glanced around, uncertain. His curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped close enough for me to grab onto his loose collar. The doorway I had ducked into was a generously ideal fit, an alcove with all the privacy of a hidden closet. It was perfect and would become the scene of Ghoul’s murder.

“What? What’re you doing?” he asked, his shoes skittering along, heel to toe, as I yanked on his shirt, manhandling him in a way that took him by surprise. “Please. Please, I don’t have very much. You can have it. You can have it all.”

“Shut it,” I snapped, having drawn the stun gun from inside my jacket. I held the power of lightning in my hand—his dying grunts would supply the thunder. I wasted no time. I shoved Ghoul against the wall as Nerd had instructed. His lungs deflated from the hard crash. I coughed and gagged at the stale tobacco smell, but drove the stun gun into his chest. The world slowed as I stepped into the act of murder. I’d rehearsed how to do this a hundred times, lifting the stun gun to the level of his chest, flipping the safety, and driving the metal posts into his heart.

“What are you doing? Please—”

Ghoul’s chest exploded in bright light and his body rocketed up and back, flattening against the alcove wall. I jumped at the sharp snap of electricity, the flash lighting up the space between us and burning the air. The smell of ozone filled the alcove as the gun’s last pulses fired. When the stun gun was spent, I dropped it to my side, putting it away. I’d rehearsed that part too, knowing I’d take it to Neshaminy Creek later that day.

As if knowing this was a punishment was for what he’d done, Ghoul lifted his hand and placed it onto mine. His breath was staggered and came in chops that sounded like rippled water lapping against a rocky shore.

“Thank you,” he said as his eyes fluttered and began to close.

“What?” I asked, nearly shouting. “What did you say?”

His body lurched upward, and he clutched at his chest. Nerd was right. The sudden shock interrupted Ghoul’s ICD, sending him into cardiac arrest. He was in the throes of a massive heart attack.

I eased him down until he sat leaning on his side. He patted my hand again, nodding slowly as if agreeing with what I’d just done to him. A short wave of emotion came over me, and I quickly dismissed it, reminding myself that the world would not miss him.

“You did for me what I—” he began, but lost his voice.

I didn’t wait to hear him finish. I left him in the small alcove. As I walked across the street, I turned back once, but couldn’t tell if his breathing had stopped. We’d already had one failed case, and I swore that I’d see every case through to the end now. I needed to stay in the area. I needed to watch and make sure Ghoul was dead.

A diner next to the playground was the perfect vantage point. The small building looked like a shiny metal box with large glass windows wrapping around it. I couldn’t help but pause when I reached the front, thinking the restaurant and been magically transported from the past. The diner’s sign proclaimed the restaurant as Suzette’s, with curvy lettering in big, bold, red letters across the window. I decided to go in.

A bell above the door rang out and I stopped when the smell of chicken and waffles came to me. It had been years since I’d seen the inside of a diner. This was a treat. I glanced through the window, finding Ghoul. I fixed my bearings, my line of sight. He hadn’t moved. An older black woman offered me a quick hello and motioned to one of the empty booths facing the window. Her name tag read ms. potts. I followed her direction.

Air wheezed from the booth’s seat as I sat down. Before Ms. Potts could place a glass of water in front of me, I’d given the alcove another long and hard stare. Ghoul lay motionless, his body slumped over, but I saw a subtle rise and fall in his chest. He was alive. A harsh cold sat in the pit of my gut.

Had I failed?

When I’d crossed the street, Ghoul’s legs were tucked up beneath him, and now one leg was stretched out, protruding from the storefront like a tree limb. A crack of lightning lit up the inside of the diner. Thunder rumbled next, shaking the plates and the glasses above the counter. The rain beat down on the glass, twisting and blurring Ghoul’s body, making it difficult for me to tell if he’d moved again.

“What can I get for you, honey?” the older waitress asked. She put on a smile for me and pushed the thick frame of her glasses up before they slipped off her nose.

“Sorry,” I said, picking the menu up. “Haven’t looked yet.”

“No worries, honey. You take your time. Lord knows that rain will take
its
good old time.”

I smiled back, agreeing.

The waitress stood at my booth, staring through the rain’s stretches and pulls, and for a moment I thought she’d seen Ghoul. I swallowed, held my breath, and waited. A beautiful young woman with red hair and stunning green eyes approached us and placed her hand on the older waitress’s shoulder. She leaned in and whispered a few words. The two erupted in laughter. I leaned back, pressing the air from the vinyl seat, surprised by the sudden laughing. It was hard not to smile at them—the sound was contagious.

“Suzette, girl, you go on back over there and set them kids right,” the older waitress said, motioning to a booth where I saw a teen girl crying while others tried to console her. “Ain’t no coffee and tears, just some silly teen angst.” The young waitress laughed again and fixed me with a courteous nod before leaving us. I opened the menu and began to read, but it didn’t take me long before I found what I wanted. The menu said that Suzette’s Diner served all sandwiches on doughy bread—baked fresh, daily. I was sold. I ordered my favorite: pastrami on rye with spicy mustard.

By the time my elbows were propped up and I was eating the best pastrami sandwich I’d ever tasted, I heard the first screams. The rain had eased, and the flashes of lightning were soon replaced by the dance of blue and red as an ambulance circled around the block and stopped in front of the alcove. They shut off the siren but kept their lights spinning. I stared, mesmerized by the lights bouncing off the wet glass. The warbling sound of more sirens turned on and off as police cars slowed, some stopping, some moving on in the steady flow of traffic. I bit down on my sandwich, letting the doughy bread invade my mouth as two men pushed a gurney out of the back of the ambulance. When the police cars began to leave, I felt more certain that Ghoul was dead. If Nerd was right, his death would look like a heart attack and an autopsy would show that he’d had a failing ICD.

Burn marks
.

A distant flash from the storm lit up the diner and all I could see were burn marks. Could the stun gun’s metal posts burn flesh? Would they show up on the autopsy? I shrugged off the concern, taking another bite of my sandwich and knowing the stun gun would face a watery grave as soon as I reached the bridge over Neshaminy Creek.