Dead Process

Andie looked around, wondering what else her sister might have left behind with her signature, a jade cross. Aside from a dead body, that is. She picked up the cross, the ninth one so far this month. It would be up to ten, but cops beat her to the scene once. Which was fairly easy, as it was their commissioner, after all.

This time, I won’t be shedding any tears for the “victim”, she mused; Rups was the kind of man who gave slumlords a bad name and that was the least of his sins. For a moment, she savored imagining the scum’s last moments of agony on this plane, knowing Cass would have taken her time with this sad excuse for a man.

She shook her head; we do not pass judgment on the living, she reminded herself. Cass needs to be stopped.

Andie heard footsteps going up the stairs. Time to leave, she thought, then vanished from the room.

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