The pain in Lois' stomach woke her before sunrise and she barely made it to the nasty toilet before she threw up. It hurt down deep in her belly this time, and at least half of her time on her knees was spent dry retching. Incongruously, she remembered her sister Lucy referring to her current activity as ‘calling Ralph on the porcelain telephone.’ It didn’t surprise her at all that she didn’t think it was as funny today as it had been in the past.
Lois finally finished heaving and crawled to the tub on her hands and knees. Too weak to stand, she turned on the cold water and let it run over her head for a while, then rinsed out her mouth as best she could.
Cancer is not a fun way to die, she mused.
That microwave burrito she’d eaten the night before probably didn’t help, either. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t have food poisoning for the next few days. She needed the time to plan her next move, the move against Dr. Jenna Leibowitz.
The doctor would be forewarned and on alert for a young woman coming into her private life at this time. There was no safe way to confront her directly, so Lois had to approach her from a different angle.
There was too much Lois didn’t know about the minutia of Leibowitz’ criminal activities. Lois couldn’t risk showing up as a potential criminal associate; she’d get tripped up in the first five minutes. Any new patients would receive the strictest screening now. Her staff would be on the alert for someone trying to slip in as a new counseling patient, and Lois didn’t have a partner to pose as her spouse. According to the very helpful Alan Robertson, Leibowitz didn’t see individual patients, only couples, and she doubted that she could con the doctor’s staff into letting her slip through the screening –
Wait a minute.
Staff.
Leibowitz was still a licensed counselor. She had to maintain her facade of seeing patients. And she couldn’t do all that grunt work by herself. She had to have legitimate staff who would set her schedule, call patients, collect fees, contact insurance companies, set up payment plans, type up her non-confidential notes, and so forth. Most of them probably had no idea what she did in her spare time.
That was the key. The doctor’s staff was the way in. She had to begin soon.
As soon as her stomach stabilized and she could get up off the bathroom floor, that is.
Just then her belly once again shoved against its fleshly restraints and tried to send its nonexistent contents spewing out to freedom. She lay over the edge of the tub and tried to time her breathing around her dry heaves.
Cancer was truly a sucky way to die. She’d rather go out with a bullet in her head.
Just – not quite yet. The job wasn’t finished. And Lois hated to leave things undone.
*****
Nigel’s daily report was incomplete. Lex couldn’t believe it, couldn’t quite credit it, but it was true. For the first time since Lex had met him, Nigel had been knocked mentally off-balance by an opponent.
“Nigel, my good man,” oozed Lex, “please sit down and stop pacing. You’re allowing Kent’s lucky punch to put you off your game. I’m sure you’ll devise a suitable reply when the time comes.”
Nigel took a seat and looked away. “If only,” he muttered.
“If only what?”
Nigel’s eyebrows rose as if he’d been surprised by the question. “Nothing, sir. I hadn’t realized that I’d spoken aloud.”
“But you did. You’re obviously distressed by something. I ask you to share it.”
Nigel drew himself up. “It is – of a personal nature, sir.”
Lex pulled his chair closer to Nigel’s. “I understand. I truly do not wish to poke around in your personal life. I respect your privacy. But whatever this is has affected your job performance.”
“Sir! I respectfully – “
“You told me three times about Jenna Leibowitz’ collections being down over the past two weeks, Nigel. You also left out the details of Alan Robertson’s recorded confession. I know that much of it won’t be admitted as evidence, but we’ll just have to—”
“It was Lois Lane!” Nigel blurted out.
Lex turned his head slightly and looked at Nigel out of the corners of his eyes, trying to divine a fresh perspective on his longtime right-hand man. He carefully reappraised the man without whom he might have failed in many of his enterprises.
And what he saw both surprised and dismayed him.
“Nigel,” said Lex, “I believe that your – ah, lack of enthusiasm, shall we say – for my plan to marry Lois Lane has clouded your judgment. I realize that she is not your favorite person, and I understand why. But I still plan to make her my wife.”
Nigel all but leaped to his feet. “But she has disrupted our operations! She may, at this very moment, be closing in on Dr. Leibowitz and her business! No one has heard from the Lane woman in five days! From the doctor it is only one short step to you! She has placed you in personal peril!” He turned and, with a visible effort, calmed himself. “Sir, if you will allow me to proceed with the original plan to bomb the Daily Planet, I’m certain that Miss Lane would reveal herself to you. I’ve no doubt that she would, as you planned, submit herself to you both professionally and personally.”
Lex stood and slowly padded to the front of the desk, then sat down on the edge. “You might be right about Lois, Nigel. But I firmly believe that our backup plan, which admittedly was thrust upon us, has a higher probability of success than the original one. Once Lois learns that she does not and never did have terminal cancer, she will let me know where she is so that I might extricate her from the resulting dire circumstances.”
“Sir, she is an investigative reporter! She will never be anything other than that!”
“I don’t believe that’s true, Nigel. I do, however, believe that anyone – including Lois – can be induced to ignore his or her ethical standards if the potential reward is sufficient, and I submit Lois’ current activities as evidence. I also believe that after all the violence and pain Lois has inflicted on others, she will be very grateful for my help in making the consequences of her actions go away. Then, because she will be very, very grateful to me, and because she will have tasted the illicit wine of such activity, she will be more than happy to become my wife and enjoy my protection.”
Lex leaned back against the desk and smiled wide. “Everyone has a price, Nigel. Everyone, including Lois Lane. She has taken her first steps along the path of unrighteousness. And, in time, she will become as amoral and driven by pure success as I am. When that happens, she and I will truly be perfectly matched. And she will stand beside me as we rule first this city, then the state, and then the entire nation.”
He saw Nigel’s objections before he voiced them. And he knew that Nigel knew what he would say. So, like a perfect butler, Nigel swallowed his words, stood, and calmly took his leave.
*****
“Kent!” shouted Perry. “Come in here!”
Clark knew it had to be about Lois. For that matter, the entire news staff knew it had to be about Lois. Even Ralph had made a crack about her the day before, suggesting that she’d decided to go into business competing with The Boss instead of trying to track him down.
Clark had barely restrained Jimmy from flattening the older man. Then he’d taken Ralph aside and explained to him, very calmly and carefully, that any more such opinions which Ralph voiced in Clark’s hearing would be met with firm and possibly unrestrained enthusiasm.
Ralph had puzzled through the double-talk for almost fifteen seconds before he’d paled and haltingly promised Clark that any mention of Lois Lane was off limits for him. Clark had barely seen the man in the office since.
Clark didn’t bother to close Perry’s office door as he breezed in. “What’s up, Chief? Something new about Lois?”
Perry put his face in his hands and fell back in his chair. “No. Not from the police, not from any of my contacts, and not from any of the known criminals she’s already shot.”
Clark sighed. “I wish I had something.”
Perry gave him a hound dog stare. “Not even from the fish guy?”
“What fish guy?”
“The fish guy, Larry Largemouth or something. Lois’ snitch.”
“Largemouth?” Then it hit him. “Oh, you mean Bobby Bigmouth.”
“Right, right. I keep getting him mixed up with largemouth bass. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” Perry leaned forward. “Have you even heard from him since Lois shot off that guy’s toe?”
“Walt McNally. Bobby’s called me twice since then, and both times it was to ask what I knew. I don’t think he has anything.”
“Nuts. If only we had some idea where she’s hiding!”
“Well – if it helps your peace of mind any, I asked Superman to keep an eye out for her. He hasn’t seen her either. It’s as if she’s dropped off the face of the earth.”
Perry let out a long breath. “Okay, let’s review and see if we can come up with something. You write this down, Clark, because I’m not sure I’ll remember this conversation in a couple of hours.”
Clark hesitated. This exercise would help to organize Perry’s thoughts and help them find Lois. But would finding Lois help her or hurt her? Was she actually going after the Boss, as they had all surmised, or was there something else going on, something more sinister? Was Lois still one of the good guys? Or had she crossed the line and become a criminal?
And what was her relationship with him now? Luthor still thought of her as his almost fiancée. Lois had never given Clark any real indication that she cared about him the way he cared about her, other than a few times when one or both of their lives had been threatened.
But maybe she’d just been reacting to the stress of the moment. Maybe she didn’t care about him the way he cared about – no, be honest, he told himself, you love her. And since her first actions after being convinced she had only a few months to live didn’t include coming to him for any reason, the only logical conclusion was that she didn’t love him back.
That hurt. A lot.
He decided to write down Perry’s points and ponder his relationship with Lois at a later date. “Ready, Chief.”
“Good. Number one, Lois is very good at disguises. Ha! You should have seen her in the office that day just before you came on board. Mustache, short hair, coveralls, mechanic’s hat, she looked just like a slender young man.
“Number two, she’s willing to go undercover and take all kinds of risks. If those car thieves had figured out who she was and what she was doing they might have killed her. She knew that and still pushed ahead.
“Number three, she thinks she’s only got a few months to live. That’s bound to push her to take even more chances than she ordinarily would.
“Number four, she’s out to hunt down The Boss. We’ve been hearing vague reports of someone in charge of almost all the crime in the city for several months, and every once in a while Lois will pull the file and go through every scrap in there.”
“I’ve seen her do that, Perry. She even asked me to go through it with her one day. There’s a lot of information in there, but it’s too scattered and unconnected to build an investigation on, whether it’s us or the police or the DA’s office. You can’t even pick a starting point from anything in there.”
“Not legally, no, but Lois is obviously doing this outside the law. It’s going to bite her in the backside when she finds out she’s not dying and she has to face the music.”
Both men were silent for a long moment. Then Clark directed a stare at the pad of paper he held and said, “You’re assuming that we’ll find her before someone kills her.”
Perry fixed him with a sad glare. “I have to assume that, son. I couldn’t get up in the morning if I thought otherwise.” He sighed deeply. “Although I’m not sure I’d rather see that day than see the day when Bill Henderson tells me that Lois has killed someone.”
Clark’s autonomic responses weren’t the same as a normal human’s, but he still felt his face grow pale.
*****
Brett Cumberland dropped the psych reference book on the hardwood floor and the slap it made sounded like a gunshot. He looked around sheepishly and muttered, “Sorry. It slipped.”
Zoe, the new clerical intern from the local secretarial school whose last name he hadn’t bothered to learn, frowned at him and stalked away. Brett thought she was being overly dramatic and serious to impress either Dr. Leibowitz or Karen Carter, the doctor’s receptionist and personal assistant. He didn’t think he liked Zoe, but he had to admit that she was already better at her job than Tiffany had been. Brett remembered how upset Karen had been when Zoe had walked in four days ago just before noon, announcing that the school had sent her to replace Tiffany, who had simply failed to show up that day. Karen had been glued to her desk ever since then, watching for Zoe to make a mistake, just as she had been this morning.
Except Karen wasn’t at her desk. She’d apparently jumped at the sound of the book’s impact, all the way from her chair to the relative safety of a metal filing cabinet. And Dr. Leibowitz had thrown herself on the floor behind the couch in the reception room. As each woman cautiously raised her head and glanced around the room, they reminded Brett of a Whack-A-Mole game at the local kiddie pizza place.
Too bad he didn’t dare laugh at them.
Dr. Leibowitz was first to her feet. “Please – please be more careful in the future, Brett,” she intoned in a shaky voice. “We wouldn’t want to alarm our patients. Some of them have been under fire before and that – well, we don’t want to set them back, now do we?”
He nodded slowly as Karen pushed herself off the floor and staggered to her desk. “Of course, Doctor,” he assured her. “I’ll be more careful.”
“See that you do. Karen, when is my next appointment?”
Karen fumbled with the computer for several seconds before telling Doctor Leibowitz that the next couple was due in one hour and forty-two minutes. The doctor nodded sharply and hurried into her office. Brett picked up the book from the floor and replaced it on the shelf from which he’d knocked it, then gathered the insurance files on which he was supposed to verify coverage. Except for their reactions to the book he’d dropped, things looked almost normal.
But they weren’t. Both the doctor and the receptionist had been on edge for the past four days, jumping at every sound and flinching away from every new patient, especially the female ones. Karen had spent at least an hour in the doctor’s office three days earlier, the day after Zoe had joined them, and while he hadn’t made out any of their conversation, he could hear the tension in their raised voices.
And Zoe was the most competent intern he’d ever seen. She spoke only when spoken to and always handed Dr. Leibowitz or Karen exactly the form or letter or document they asked for, sometimes almost before being asked for it. And nothing seemed to bother her, not loud noises or unexpected changes in appointments or patients showing up early or late or the police who’d come to see the doctor on her first day. She just took everything in stride. She was at the office waiting for one of them to unlock it in the morning and always walked out with whoever locked up at night.
She was hot, too, or she would be if she dressed a little nicer. Brett wasn’t a big fan of red hair, either, although he did like her long below-the-shoulder tresses. Nor did he like the way her squared black plastic frames covered the upper part of her face. Her voice was a bit on the nasal side and she didn’t seem to understand that humans had to blink at least once an hour. And she always ate lunch by herself. She seemed to favor bland food and milk, as if she had a stomach condition she didn’t want to aggravate.
He couldn’t figure out how old she was, either. She looked to be twenty-five or maybe even a little younger, but she acted older, like someone who’d been through a lot in her life and was feeling the weight of her years. The girl was a puzzle, all right.
And figuring her out was above his pay grade.
He took the piles of files to his office, shut the door, sat down, and began dialing insurance companies. This was the part of the job he disliked the most, mindlessly calling insurance companies and talking to equally uninspired drones at the other end of the line. These were the times when he almost – not quite, but almost – envied his brother Bill and his job at the medical testing lab. At least Brett made a decent salary.
Brett didn’t know that he was about to miss the most exciting thing ever to happen in that office as he dialed and checked off boxes on his paperwork. Of course, several days later, when he finally did find out, he decided that being endangered by people with guns and hypodermic needles exceeded his desire for excitement and he quit his job on the spot.
*****
Karen bent down and pointed to the printed schedule on her boss’ desk. “No, Doctor, we have Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy scheduled at two tomorrow. We can’t put them off again, even for the Trumps. We’ve already bumped the Kennedys three times this month.”
Dr. Leibowitz pressed her lips together and sighed. “You’re right, Karen. It’s just that having David and Yvette Trump would be a wonderful advertisement for the practice.”
Karen smiled slightly. “We can’t advertise using any patients’ real names – “
“But we can let it be known among the finest social circles in both Metropolis and Gotham City – quite discreetly, of course – “
“Of course.”
The doctor smiled. “It could be hinted that the Trumps are seeing us professionally. And any perceived improvement in their relationship would be a boost for the practice.”
“I agree. But it won’t do that much good if we lose Chester and Patricia Kennedy over it. The negative publicity could outweigh the positive.”
“Hmm. That’s true. Let me see the files on both couples, please.”
Karen stood and called out, “Ms. Cunningham, please bring me—“
“The Kennedy and Trump files, Doctor.”
Karen smiled momentarily at the red-headed intern. “Thank you, Ms. Cunningham. That was very efficient on your part. That’s all for now.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Both women behind the desk slowly looked up to see a large-caliber revolver in Zoe’s right hand. Karen quickly glanced around the office and saw that the door to the reception area was closed and locked.
Karen lifted her hands and cautiously straightened up. “Zoe, what are you doing?”
The redhead waved the pistol at the doctor. “Lift your hands, too, Doc. Besides, the shotgun under the desk isn’t loaded.”
That statement shocked Karen far more than the presence of the pistol had. It meant that Zoe, or whoever she really was, had taken the time to examine the office and neutralize their defenses. It made her wonder who the girl was working for.
And what she intended to do with them.
“Please stand up, both of you,” said Zoe. “I want you to stand on this side of the desk, your hands locked behind your heads and your backsides leaning against the front edge.”
The two women complied. “Feet out a bit more, please,” Zoe said. “I don’t want to shoot either of you because you suddenly jumped at me in a vain attempt to be heroic. And move further away from each other. That’s better.”
Zoe’s nasal voice had begun to grate on Karen’s ears even more than before. “What do you plan to do with us?” Karen asked.
Zoe tilted her head to one side and smiled. “My, that was fast. You’re already past the ‘you’re a junkie looking for drugs’ stage and even the ‘we don’t keep cash in the office’ stage. You’ve assumed that I’m here for some purpose other than robbery. Have you considered that I might be a hired assassin?”
She leaned closer and pressed the pistol against the underside of Karen’s right breast. Karen stopped breathing for a long moment. “Ever seen how much damage this weapon can do at close range, Karen? It makes a hole going in that’s about the size of a dime, but the hole it makes going out is bigger than a silver dollar. I could pull this trigger and paint the wall and ceiling with the tissue from inside your boob. At least, I think that’s what would happen.” The redhead smiled evilly. “Shall we test my hypothesis?”
“No!” cried Leibowitz. “Please don’t – don’t shoot us! We’ve never done anything to you!”
“No? Are you sure about that?” Zoe stepped back and Karen’s lungs slowly refilled. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? Both of you kick off your shoes. Now.”
They both pushed their shoes toward Zoe. “Now, Karen, since you’re wearing a very nice pantsuit, how about you lose your slacks and pantyhose?”
“Wh – what? Why?”
“Doctor, you’re the psychologist, you tell her why.” Leibowitz pressed her lips together and didn’t respond. “No? Then I will. Modern Americans feel much more vulnerable when they aren’t wearing the amount of clothing they feel appropriate to a given situation. If I take your pants, you’re far less likely to do something stupid that I’d have to shoot you for. And I’ll know for sure that you aren’t carrying any concealed weapons. Now drop them and toss them next to your shoes.”
Karen was scared now. She could face a sane person with a weapon, but facing a crazy woman with a pistol terrified her. She cut her eyes to Jenna Leibowitz, mutely pleading for help, but saw only a granite mask excluding her.
She would have to face this maniac alone.
Karen unfastened her trousers and let them fall the floor. “Kick them over on your shoes,” grated Zoe. “That’s right. Now the hose.”
Karen hesitated. “I – I’m not wearing anything under them.”
Zoe shrugged. “I don’t care. Will it help if I promise not to take any pictures?”
Karen’s ire flared. “You stupid little – “
The ‘snick’ of the pistol’s hammer being pulled back stopped her.
“Just drop them, Karen, and don’t give me any back talk. Because I just might shoot you and leave you bleeding on the floor the next time you don’t do what I tell you to do.”
Karen looked into Zoe’s green eyes – contact lenses, she realized – and nodded. After a moment, her hose joined her pants in the pile on the floor.
“Hands back behind your head, Karen. Link your fingers together. That’s it. And lean back against the desk like before. Feet apart. Good. Now, Doctor Leibowitz, it’s your turn.”
“This is a one-piece dress,” growled the doctor.
“So it should come off easily. Or should I shoot it off?”
“No! I – I’ll take it off.”
Leibowitz fumbled with the zipper in the back for a moment, then slipped it down and let the dress fall to the floor. “Much better,” smiled Zoe. “Now the slip and the hose.”
Leibowitz hesitated, then pulled the slip over her head. She balled it up and threw it on the floor beside her shoes.
Zoe whistled. “Very nice, Doctor. Garter belt and nylons instead of plain old pantyhose. That brings a number of interesting questions to mind, if only I had time to ask them. Come on, unsnap the nylons and pull them off.”
Karen expected Jenna to show some kind of resistance, a gesture or a growl or even a fierce scowl, but she saw none of that. Jenna meekly did as she was told.
It was disappointing.
Then Zoe gestured with the pistol again. “Okay, you two, turn around and reach over the desk. Grab the far edge and stay that way. Oh, Doctor, the little thirty-two semi-auto isn’t in your upper right drawer any more, so don’t try to grab for it.”
Karen tried for a moment to preserve her modesty in that position, but reluctantly gave up after she realized it was impossible. The edge of the desk was too far to grab, but she did hook two fingers of each hand on it. After all, dying wasn’t on her to-do list for the day.
Then Zoe did something Karen would never have expected.
The cold metal of the pistol’s muzzle was suddenly thrust against her bare backside. Karen jerked, then forced herself to remain still.
“Very good, Karen. Now move just your left hand to the small of your back.”
Karen felt Zoe wrapping something around her wrist, then the girl said, “Now the other hand.” Whatever it was quickly encased her right wrist also. Zoe then grabbed Karen’s hair and pulled her upright, then pushed the muzzle of the pistol into her ear.
“Very slowly now, turn one quarter turn to the right and kneel. That’s it, facing away from the good doctor, an adjective I use quite loosely. Now stay there and don’t move or I’ll shoot something you don’t want shot.”
Zoe then gave Jenna the same instructions as she had Karen. Karen took the opportunity to test the wrappings on her hands. It wasn’t rope or duct tape, so what did—
It was their hose. Zoe was tying their hands with their own hosiery. And Karen knew from experience that you could hang a large person with a nylon stocking. They weren’t going to break out of these restraints by themselves.
Karen felt her hands pulled backward roughly, and she realized that Zoe was tying their hands together. Then a length of nylon encircled her throat and she flinched hard, trying to move away.
Zoe rapped her head above the ear with the pistol barrel, and Karen saw stars for a moment. Zoe’s voice came from far away. “Now you’re ready to answer my questions.”
Karen’s vision finally cleared and she looked around. She could feel Jenna’s fingers exploring the knots that held them, and she saw Zoe pull a chair to the middle of the room so she could watch both of them.
“Hope you two aren’t altogether uncomfortable, despite almost being in the altogether together,” the redhead chuckled. “But now that you’re ready, you’re going to answer some questions.”
Jenna’s voice assumed the familiar counselor’s soothing tone. “Zoe, you can’t believe that you’ll get away with this. You’re getting yourself in a lot of trouble just to steal patient information.”
Karen relaxed slightly. This was a bad situation, but Jenna could talk them out of it. Jenna could talk to anybody about anything. And surely Zoe wasn’t going to kill either of them over their files.
Zoe’s smile was predatory instead of amused. “I guess it would be if I were after patient information. Someone with an evil mind could steal those and probably blackmail any number of people in the city. That is, if that was what I was after.”
“Oh? If that’s not what you want, what are you looking for? You know you don’t have that much time. Brett will be finished soon, and I don’t think he’s wearing nylon hose today.”
Zoe nodded. “That’s probably true, Doc. But if he does stick his head in here, the first thing he’s going to see is you two half-naked and tied up. It’s a frat boy’s dream come true, don’t you think? And I’ll have time to do whatever I need to do to neutralize him.”
Karen sighed. She knew she should have fought for her pants.
“That’s pretty good thinking on your part, Zoe,” purred Jenna. “But I don’t believe you’ll actually shoot either of us if we don’t cooperate.”
Zoe leaned forward. “Alan Robertson didn’t think so either.”
Karen nearly lost control of her bladder at the mention of Robertson’s name. She’d all but demanded that she and Jenna take what money they could carry and head west when the news of Robertson’s shooting and subsequent arrest had broken. The news reports hadn’t revealed much detail, but it was obvious to Karen that Robertson had talked freely, especially since he’d been released so quickly. Jenna had refused to leave, insisting that they had in place sufficient protections, both legal and not so legal, to keep them safe.
Apparently she’d been mistaken.
Now all Karen could anticipate was a permanent scar from a bullet and an extremely painful injury which would require surgery to repair and long hours of therapy to fully recover from. And she wasn’t likely to get that kind of care behind bars.
“I’ll tell you!” Karen blurted. “I’ll tell you everything!”
“No!” hissed Jenna. “You’ll ruin everything! You can’t mrgluph grrrrpgpg!”
Karen didn’t know what Zoe had shoved into Jenna’s mouth, but whatever it was it had shut her up. Zoe then knelt down beside Karen and allowed the pistol to point in the general direction of the floor between Karen’s knees. “I think we’re going to have a very nice conversation, Karen. Don’t you?”
Karen nodded sharply, hoping not to alarm whoever this frightening young woman really was.
The redhead smiled again. “Now let me show you something.”
She reached into her outer jacket pocket and produced two capped syringes. “Doctor, you’ll want to hear this. One of these needles contains a double dose of a fairly powerful narcotic. It’s pretty much guaranteed to put you to sleep for hours. The other is – well, let’s just say that the sleep that one will give you will be much deeper. And, I’m afraid, very permanent.”
Karen’s eyes widened at the sight of the syringes and she gasped. She could feel Jenna stiffen and stop working on the knots holding their hands.
“If you answer me truthfully, Karen, I won’t have to use these. But if you don’t – or if I don’t believe you or if you try to lie to me – then I’ll have to squirt one of these into Dr. Leibowitz’ butt and the other into yours. And I’m really sorry, but I was so tired that I completely forgot to label them when I made them up last night, so I really don’t know which one is the sleepy dose and which one is the even more sleepy one.”
Jenna whimpered against her gag and shivered. Karen sat back on her haunches and pulled her knees against her chest. “Please,” she begged, “please d-don’t use them! I swear I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Zoe tilted her head and smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, if you promise to tell me the truth every time I ask you a question, we won’t have any problems. Okay?”
Karen looked down past the nylon noose pressing on her throat and took a shuddering breath. “Yes!” she whispered fiercely. “No – no problems at all.”
Zoe touched the pistol barrel to the floor between Karen’s feet, then slowly lifted the pistol until the front sight touched Karen’s bare crotch. Then she smiled. “That’s good. Because you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?”
Karen could feel her navel trying to retreat into her stomach. “No! I – I mean, no, I d-don’t want to disappoint you!”
Zoe leaned back on her heels and took the pistol away. “That’s just fine. Let’s start with some simple things and work up to the really important ones in a few minutes, okay?”
Karen knew that Jenna would probably have killed her at that moment if she could, and that Jenna’s boss would almost surely order it if Jenna didn’t. But Karen also knew that Zoe – or whoever she was – was at least as likely to shoot her right here and now. The girl wasn’t just behaving erratically, she was probably sociopathic. She might or might not take pleasure in killing them, but she didn’t seem to care about the moral issues involved.
Laying aside the moral questions one might ask about Karen’s own activities over the past few years, she didn’t want to die, not ever, and certainly not while half-naked in her own office and tied up like a calf at slaughter. Whether Intergang or some Mob boss had sent Zoe or she was a loose cannon operating on her own didn’t matter at this point. Karen had only a slim chance to survive until her next birthday, and answering this certifiably insane girl’s questions was the best shot she had – the only shot, in fact – at living out the day.
Karen took a shuddering breath and gazed into Zoe’s green plastic lenses. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything connected with the Boss to whom you report.” The redhead’s smile widened almost maniacally and her head tilted to one side. “Why don’t you just start talking? If I think you’ve missed something, I’ll ask you to clarify.” She leaned closer and touched her lips to Karen’s ear and softly whispered, “Do try to be complete. I really hate asking for clarification. I tend to get—“ she lowered the hammer on the pistol “—impatient.”
Karen started talking. And she didn’t intend to stop until she’d told all she knew.
