Page 91 of Necessary Evil

Marla shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t care, though. I don’t like to limit myself to one man.” She eyed Warden and slid down her shorts.

And that was Evil’s cue to leave. “Thanks, Marla. You’ve been a great help.”

“You’re not staying?” she pouted, her hands on Sentinel’s belt buckle.

“You seem to have your hands full,” he said.

“There’s always room for one more.” She giggled.

“I’m good,” he said. “Have fun.” He could only hope they would clean off the table when they were done. Shaking his head, he closed the door behind him. Before Lucy he might have joined in, or told those two assholes to wait their turn while she blew him.

The Judge buzzed him, and he took the call on the way to his apartment. “I was just about to call you,” Evil said. “I have an anonymous tip that’s going to make your day”—and that would probably delay, if not cancel, Bobby Bradford’s execution. The California cops would get to process the motherfucker, and he’d rot in jail. Evil could have his cake and eat her too. Man, did he want to eat Lucy right now.

“What is it?” The Judge’s tinny voice brought him back to the topic at hand.

“Bobby Bradford uses the alias Richard Barker, and there’s a fake passport to prove it. I’m also willing to bet that if you send a team to Bay Shore, you’re going to find the Oxy.” He read off the address Marla had given them.

“That’s just the break we’re looking for,” the Judge said, but there was something off about his response.

“You don’t sound as ecstatic as I thought you would be.”

“That’s because I think the son of a bitch killed another woman today.”

Lucy!

Evil’s vision turned red, and he spun on his heel, preparing to run for his bike. “Who?”

“You remember the attorney?”

No. Please, no. Why did I let her go to work today? Why didn’t I lock her up in my apartment?

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. He was going to drive to Bay Shore and kill the bastard with his bare hands. He didn’t care if he got caught. It was worth it.

“Her paralegal.”

Evil stumbled and literally hit the wall. “What?”

“The alibi. She apparently committed suicide today by CO poisoning in her garage.”

“Shit. Jenny’s dead?” What a fucking shame. He’d liked the kid. Damn it, if he had just pulled the trigger on that fuck, she’d still be alive. He sank down into the booth, feeling guilty about his relief. Lucy was alive. She was probably fucked up by the news, but she was breathing. He would no longer hesitate about killing Bobby. He wasn’t going to risk her.

“That’s not the bad news, though.”

“What could be worse than a dead girl?”

“She apparently left a suicide note blaming Sentinel.”

Evil looked at the closed door of the boardroom. “That’s twice you’ve said ‘apparently.’ Could it really have been a suicide?”

“Not according to the lawyer.”

“Why?” Was Lucy trying to protect Sentinel’s feelings?

“The note was typed and printed from the vic’s home computer, and it said, ‘There isn’t any reason to go on. Sentinel doesn’t love me.’ But the word there is spelled t-h-e-i-r, and apparently errors like that were the woman’s biggest pet peeve.”

“Where’s Bradford?” Evil asked.

“According to the lawyer, he’s been in Atlantic City since last night.”

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