“Charlie’s a good-looking kid, really popular with the ladies. What I’m saying, Ned: he’s a
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir, I truly am. But I’ve got a wife. She must be worried sick about me. Please let me go! I swear I never did anything to hurt your daughter.
“You see, Ned, this is why I had to chain you up. It’s why I might have to kill you.”
“Wh-what?”
Even after all this you’re still not being honest with me.”
“How can you
“Tell me about your cousin.”
“My cousin?”
“Bickham Wright.”
Ned’s face fell. “Oh, shit,” he said.
“Oh, shit indeed,” I said. “Look, I’m going to save you some trouble. I already know the facts. I’m just looking for details.”
I took a syringe from my pocket, removed the cap, and tapped the plunger to remove any trapped air.
Ned’s eyes went wide. “What’s in that?”
“It’s a lethal dose.”
“Okay, stop. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Thought you might.”
“I don’t personally know any of the women they drugged,” Ned said. “But I know some of the names. I’m positive they didn’t drug Kimberly.”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s underage.”
There was something in his eyes.
“What aren’t you telling me, Ned?”
He closed his eyes and winced. When he spoke his bottom lip quivered. “I know they killed one of the women. Erica Chastain.”
“Who killed her?”
“Bickham and Charlie.”
“What did they do with the body?”
“Buried it somewhere in the hills, where they like to hunt.”
They told you all this?
“When Erica went missing, there was an investigation. A lot of people remembered seeing her at the Grantline. I told Bickham it was over.”
“You cut him off ?”
“Yes sir.”
