Shayne stood up. He shook his head. “I grabbed it away from you by the muzzle. After that I only touched the trigger guard. No. You’ve pulled your last double cross, sister. Even southern chivalry isn’t going to overlook two murders in the same day.”
She cowered away from him, trembling and terrified. “Damn your soul to hell! You planned this all along. Ever since last night. You sent me over here-”
“To keep you on ice until I’d cleaned up the other details,” Shayne told her coldly. “That’s right. And you fell for it.”
He went out the door and slammed it shut to close out the noise of her sobbing from his ears while he waited for the police to come.
All Shayne could think of was that he needed a bath.
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