“Wh-Where am I?”His voice cracked.“What’s going on?”
“I’ll be asking the questions.”I dragged a folding chair across the floor, the metal legs screeching against the concrete.“You can start by telling me why youthinkyou’re here.”I plopped down in the chair.
“I…” He blinked, confused.“I don’t know.”
“Think harder.Your life depends on it.”
His gaze flicked over my face, searching.Calculating.Like a man trying to determine the rules of a game he didn’t realize he’d already lost.
“Is this about Daphne Summers?”he asked somewhat hesitantly.
“There we go.”I leaned back, propping one ankle on my knee.“And I was worried I’d have to…jog your memory.Now tell me.What arrangement did you have with Victor Kane?”
“I’m overseeing his mother-in-law’s care.I can’t tell you anything more without violating privacy laws.”
I threw my head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the barren space.“Privacy laws?You disregarded your oath the second you started drugging a woman for money, but now you’re worried about patient privacy?”
“I never disregarded my oath.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.“I’ll give you one more chance to be a decent person.Victor called you Sunday night.What did you talk about?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that information.”
“Pity.”
I stood and crossed to the workbench, my hand brushing the various knives mounted on the wall, all gleaming steel with dark wooden handles.Some long and thin, meant for detailed work.Others thick and brutal to make cutting through bone easier.
“My father taught me how to use each and every one of these,” I said softly.“Instead of toy cars or action figures, he gave me a set of hunting knives.Said I needed to know how to take something apart.How to make a clean kill.”
Schaffer audibly whimpered.
“I didn’t want to at first.I couldn’t stomach the thought of taking another life, even an animal’s.But he taught me something that stuck.Not every creature deserves compassion.”I laughed under my breath.“It’s funny.After hearing him say it enough times, it became my mantra, too.Made me realizehedidn’t deserve compassion, either, so I killed him.”
My hand hovered over the hacksaw before continuing onto the skinning knife, removing it from its place.I turned, the knife glinting under the light.
“Let’s see if you deserve compassion.”
He stiffened as I advanced on him, slicing down the front of his shirt, the blade easily tearing apart the fabric.The air hit his damp skin, sweat beading on his brow.
“Have you ever hunted, doc?”
He vehemently shook his head, his sole focus on the knife in my hand.
“It’s not as simple as pulling a trigger,” I explained.“You see, we lived off the land when I was a boy.Had to kill to survive.I learned how to gut, clean, and quarter the game we killed.”I dragged my knife over his skin, but didn’t puncture it.Not yet.“Over the years, I got to be quite efficient at it.I could take a freshly killed deer and have it quartered in less than an hour.”I gave him a sly grin.“As if the poor soul never even existed.”
The stench hit before the sound, a sharp ammonia tang as his bladder gave out, staining his pants.The puddle gathered beneath his feet, trickling toward the drain.
“So let’s try again, shall we?What did Victor say when he called you this past Sunday?”
“H-he was worried about Daphne,” he stammered.“Mrs.Summers.”
“Worried?”
“He’s been paying for her treatment.I?—”
I cut a line along his abdomen.It was shallow, but sharp enough to draw blood.His groan echoed off the concrete, his breathing growing ragged.
“Don’t lie to me,” I seethed.“He paid you to falsify her records.Drug her until she couldn’t tell up from down.Isn’t that right?”
