“You don’t seem surprised to see me alive.”
“Curly…told me…you were…alive.”
“And you’ve not told anyone all this time? Not even Sal?”
“It was…not my…business…to tell…anyone.”
“Who wound up killing the couple from Nashville?”
“No one…I termi…nated…the pro…ject…after you…got here.”
“And you’re here to talk me into coming back to work for you?”
“No, I’m…part of…your…therapy…Dr. Crouch…wanted…me to…show you… something.”
“Then do so.”
Victor was a quadriplegic, which means his paralysis affects all four limbs. But like many quads, Victor’s paralysis and loss of function was not complete. He still retained partial use of his hands. With them, he controlled an array of buttons and toggles, one of which he used to summon his general, Hugo, and his mystery guest.
Hugo walked into the room with a very attractive woman who seemed familiar to me.
“Creed,” he said.
“Hi Hugo. These days I’m going by Conner Payne.” I studied the woman standing next to him. I knew it would come to me. She had shoulder-length blond hair. The eyes were a different color than the last time I’d seen her, but they were still deep set and expressive.
“Holy shit,” I said. “Monica Childers. I thought you were dead.”
“I wish
“Nice to see you, too,” I said.
I glanced at my wheelchair-bound former employer. “Victor, you told me Monica had been fucked to death by the Fathis.”
She gave him a hard look.
“That…was a…cover…story,” he said.
I said, “Monica, you’ve got every reason to hate me, but seriously, I’m glad to know you’re alive.”
“Fuck you,” she said.
“It’s a generous offer, but I’m already spoken for.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“You’re a saucy little thing,” I said.
“And you tried to kill me.”
I said, “Victor, what’s the story here?”
Victor gave Hugo a single nod, and Hugo said, “Monica was married to Baxter Childers, the surgeon who botched Victor’s operation and left him paralyzed.”
“I remember,” I said.
“Monica met Victor during the lawsuit. They kept in touch with throwaway phones. Baxter was a serial cheater, and a piece of shit human being,” Hugo said. He looked at Monica, held his hands up as if asking her to take over. She did.
“Not that I give a rat’s ass what you think,” she said to me, “but I knew for years he’d been cheating. I forgave him twice. Then I
