Explanations, or a lack thereof

Seth glanced at Deborah nervously. “Listen, you should know … that man, the one I hit? He’s a bad man. You might not believe me, but he probably deserved what he got.”

Deborah smirked. “I’m well aware of the personality of the Laughing Man, thank you. That’s why I was here — you know, as a law enforcement officer — to bring him to justice. That is, until you managed to shoot it all straight to hell.”

Seth didn’t answer as they drove on, leaving Deborah to wonder at his silence. Most people would’ve said something, she reasoned, but he hasn’t. Who is he? What is he doing here?

For his part, Seth was still dwelling on Deborah’s unnerving resemblance to that face. Sure, she looked older than his sister had, but the facial structure, the mannerisms … they were all the same. Finally, he had to ask. “You’re not wondering why I ran over a Mexican gangster in a Mexico City back alley?”

“Not particularly, but if you want to explain …” came the waspish response.

Seth took a deep breath.

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