Page 8 of Above All Else
He adjusted the rolled-up sleeves of his white button-down shirt and motioned for the bartender, who walked over. “Same thing as him.”
The bartender raised a brow and swung his gaze to mine as he braced both hands against the edge of the bar’s surface.
“Whiskey on the rocks—“
“Oh God. Nevermind.” Paul chortled. “I’ll have mine neat.”
“I never got to thank you for the private charter.”
The bartender nodded, grabbed two tumblers, and shoveledice into mine. He poured the liquor, then slid them across the bar toward us.
“No problem at all.” Paul maneuvered his tumbler closer to him with a slight twist and turn. “Did you take my advice and pick a good guest this year?” The corner of his mouth turned up as his gaze shifted over to me. “The quality of the guests determines how fun the party is,” he said with a slight lilt to his voice.
I pulled my drink to my lips, savored the smoky flavors, and then swallowed as I nodded, allowing the smooth liquor to coat my throat.
The human body was a complex organism, yet so easy to eradicate. After tomorrow, there would be no more June, a kindergarten teacher loved among her peers—only a pale corpse void of blood and maybe a limb or two.
Her death would be an art form no one could replicate.
“I do.” I gulped my whiskey and placed the glass on the surface, then checked the time on my Rolex, a gift from my predecessor when I stepped into his role.
“Who?” Paul pitched me a curious look. “Is it personal? I brought my first ex-wife ten years ago and offered her to everyone willing to touch her and then slit her throat. Blood sprayed everywhere like in that scene from Blade. You know the one?” He bumped me with his elbow, then shuddered. “I wouldn’t touch that whore with a ten-foot cow prod.”
Creative.
The nine pints of blood she’d lost would have spread farand wide across the floor, pooling like a dark, glistening lake. His wife would have passed out long before the last drop drained, slipping into a silent, eerie death.
Far more peaceful than June’s.
“It is for me, although I’m sure she doesn’t remember me very well.”
My guts twisted like a washing machine on agitate.
I drop to my knees, cradling Amber’s body against me.
“Unrequited crush?”
I sucked in a breath. “What?”
“Is she a woman who doesn’t love you?”
I scoffed. “No.”
June was stunning, even more so than in high school, with those hazel eyes, flowing brunette hair, and a body that could make a man forget himself.
But looks were deceiving.
“Then why her?”
I swallowed the last of the whiskey, eyeing the ball of ice rotating inside. “She killed someone I knew.”
Paul choked. “Jesus. That took a turn.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, my gaze tipping to his hand before he dropped it. “How come she isn’t in prison?”
“There weren’t any eyewitnesses…until now.” I waved at the bartender, who fixed me another drink and pushed it myway.
“A witness?”
“Supposedly.” I cocked my head to the side and sipped the next tumbler. “Two years ago, someone started sending me tidbits of information. A piece of a picture, a snippet of a video. Until it all came together a week and a half ago, revealing the culprit.”