Read Bill Hopkins - Judge Rosswell Carew 01 - Courting Murder for Free Online Page B

allegations about me and someone who no longer walks the land of the living now, don’t you agree?”
    Babe agreed. “What about this?” Babe held up the knife. Filthy stinking stuff from Eddie Joe’s throat dripped from the point of the knife onto a patch of clover. Buzzing insects circled the knife, sensing food.
    “Pitch it.”
    Babe didn’t pitch it. She handed it to the killer and said, “Don’t be careless with evidence.”
    “I’m going to change clothes and go back to work. If we don’t stay in our daily routine, someone could notice. Someone might notice my bloody clothes even if I did stick to my routine.”
    “Everybody thinks I’m gone.”
    “Don’t screw up.”
    Babe said, “You’ve got fancy moves, but you’ve got cheese for brains.”
    “Must’ve got them from you. Whore.”
    Babe said, “I hate you. You were still doing favors for Eddie Joe. You liked it, didn’t you? You lied to me when you said you were through with him.”
    The killer didn’t speak.
    Babe stood, yet made no other movement. After a moment she launched herself, knocking the killer to the ground. The killer fell back- wards, a rock slamming into backbone. The pain in the spine caused a momentary blackout. Babe punched the killer in the gut. That brought the killer around, although breathing was impossible for a few seconds. A damned girl punch. A man would’ve beaten the killer’s face until all sensation was gone. Babe had found her Taser, which headed for the killer’s face. The killer shoved a hand into her face and pushed her away. When she fell, her Taser disappeared into the brush. She jumped up and kicked the killer’s butt, landing a couple of blows on each cheek. The killer rolled away. Babe staggered backward when a kick she’d aimed missed. There was no way the killer could get up. Rolling toward her feet, knocking her to the ground, the killer screamed. Babe lay panting in the dirt with the killer straddling her.
    Babe said, “Won’t be long before you join Eddie Joe and me in hell. We’ll be waiting.”
    The knife was within reach. The killer grabbed it and stabbed her in the heart.
    “To quote me, ‘After the first execution, the second one gets easier’.”
    No more Eddie Joe. No more Babe. The killer would learn to get along without them. Shit happens. People bleed. People die.
    The killer arranged their bodies. No one would ever notice the ingenious pattern used. Some Fast Orange would clean the killer’s hands. “You always need clean hands for any kind of work.”
    The killer cradled the knife. The second part of the plan, the part Babe knew nothing about, the part that just sprang into the killer’s mind, needed a knife. The killer let out a howl of victory and a laugh of triumph.
    Something crashed in the woods behind the scene. Whatever it was snapped dead branches that had fallen to the ground. The killer thought a deer must’ve been scared.
    Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Black clouds rolled across the sky.
    The killer’s tongue flicked in and out, catching the first drops of rain.
    “It’s nice of Mother Nature to clean this mess up.”

Chapter Four

Monday morning, continued
    R osswell stumbled into the sheriff’s station in Marble Hill, his eyesight haloed by lightning, hearing thrumming from thunder, and clothes dripping rainwater. Frizz and Neal followed him.
    Tina Parkmore sat at a desk behind a long plywood counter, varnished and shiny, that served to keep the public in its place.
    For Tina’s sake, Rosswell hoped the drenching rain had washed away his stink. He didn’t want to offend her. He always found a reason to talk with her. The perky dispatcher, in Rosswell’s mind, looked the same as when she’d reigned as the head cheerleader in high school ten years ago.
    Slender and tall, the strawberry blonde’s job was to handle all the phone calls and radio traffic, as well as to give information to the pubic. Her green eyes saw everything, her delicate ears