"Did you have to do it where you'd be seen?" Jules asked finally.
"They had an apartment above the convenience store," Archer said. "It was harder to get in there than it was to do it directly. Either way, she would have been there. Either way, he'd end up dead. I promise you, I was as careful as I could possibly be."
"That still doesn't explain why you didn't tell us you were leaving," Boner said. Apparently he was more worried about that than he was about us being seen.
"I thought you'd try to talk us out of it, or tag along," Archer said. "Next time I'll leave a note."
"Do that," Boner said. "Look, I understand wanting to have time alone with Harlow. Just give us a heads up, yeah? And I'll do the same for the rest of you."
I rubbed a hand over my eyes.
"Is there anything else? Because I need to get some rest. I have to be at work in a few hours."
I was going to be tired all day but it was worth it seeing the gratitude on Camilla's face. Toby was the lowest of the low. I hoped that special place in hell for people like him had an extra special spot for him. Something painful.
Strange how I always thought that when I didn't really believe in heaven or hell. Thinking of predators dying withoutany kind of retribution didn't sit well with me. That was why I had my torture box. For a chosen few, I could ensure they suffered before they died. If they didn't suffer after they died, at least they had that.
"So do I," Jules muttered. He pushed himself off the chair and stalked over to his bedroom. The bed creaked as he threw himself down onto it and rolled over.
"Sorry about him, but he does have a point," Cass said, closing the laptop and sitting in the chair Jules vacated. "That was a risk."
"Calculated risk," Archer said. "Carefully calculated." His tone was loaded with additional meaning.
Cass cocked his head. "What did you do?"
We all turned to stare at Archer.
"I figured if the cops knew she was a woman, they might give her a fancy nickname," he admitted. "They call me the Heart-Renderer. Isn't it time she got one of her own?"
I groaned. "If they look that place over carefully enough, I might get the nickname The Ketchup Killer."
Boner grinned. "That's fucking hilarious. Harlow, The Ketchup Killer."
"They might call you the Chocolate Killer," Archer suggested.
"That sounds like I killed chocolate," I grumbled.
Which was more or less accurate. Okay, not killing it, but eating it.
"They might not realize he was murdered," Boner said. "They might put it down to…" He paused for dramatic effect. "Shelf-inflicted injuries."
We all groaned at his terrible pun.
As always, he was completely unapologetic. He actually bowed.
"Thank you, I do what Ican," he said.
"Shut up with the puns," Jules called out.
“Nocando," Boner called back. "It goes with the rest of my evil personality, as a…cereal killer."
"They might call me the Cornflake Killer," I said, remembering the box that fell off the shelf. That would be a play on the term serial killer.
"They might go for something sophisticated, if they know he was a predator," Archer said slowly. "Something like the Feminine Hygienist." The very corners of his mouth twitched upward.
"If you don't stop with the puns, I'm going to kill all of you myself," Jules said.
"You might not need to," I called back. "I might do it for you."
