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The Darkness - Jason Pinter [120]

By Root 657 0
I wasn't scared to death.

"Jeremy killed himself," she said. "We only bring in

men who have something to lose. Unfortunately, as we

learned later, Jeremy had nothing."

"Eve Ramos," I said. "You're the Fury."

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Jason Pinter

Ramos laughed, her voice high-pitched, full of delight.

"The Fury," she said. "I always found such enjoyment in

that name. And to think how many people trembled at the

very sound of a person who might not even exist. I

suppose it works the same way with Satan and even Jesus.

Beholden to deities we will never know exist until the day

we die." Eve Ramos looked up at the ceiling. "I bet

Jeremy Robertson knows whether there is a devil."

"You manufacture this poison," I said. "I'm pretty sure

that if there is a devil, that puts you on an even keel with

him."

"Oh, Mr. Parker," Eve said as she crossed the room to

where I was standing. Then, moving faster than I knew

possible, she had gripped my throat in her hand and said,

"Who's to say the devil is a man?"

She then pushed me backward. I coughed once, but

stared her down.

"You killed my brother," I said. "Just like you're responsible for about a dozen more deaths from this drug."

"A dozen?" Ramos said. "Henry, you don't know the

half of it."

"So what do you want?" I said. "And where's my

friend?"

"Officer Sheffield is fine," she said. "Unfortunately, as

a police officer, we cannot simply dispose of your friend

until we can be certain it is done in a way that is, shall

we say, less than incriminating."

"And me? Why am I here?"

"Henry, you came to us, remember?"

"Why am I alive?"

"You're alive because you have use to me. Before you

die, you have a chance to do one last noble deed. And then

when the time comes to meet your maker, you can be sure

it will be the right one."

The Darkness

345

"I don't understand," I said.

"Please," Ramos said. "Sit."

I didn't move.

"Fine. You'll be sitting enough anyway." She went to

the head of the table, pulled out a leather chair and lay

back, propping her feet up on the table. She was wearing

dark boots, dirty and worn. This was not a woman who

preferred high heels. "You are a newspaperman. I take it

you know much about our product from the reporting of

Ms. Paulina Cole."

"I read her article," I said. "And I know how you got

her to write it."

"See," she said, smiling. "I knew you were a bright

young man. There's no way Ms. Cole could have had

access to that information without anybody else knowing

about it. Yes, we fed it to Ms. Cole. And now you are

going to write another article for your newspaper. And

once that is done, you can leave this world in peace,

knowing you've kept your loved ones from harm's way."

"My loved ones?"

Eve took her feet down, leaned forward. "You came

to my attention right after your brother, Mr. Gaines, was

killed. How fortunate for us that another man was accused

of his murder, that was an unexpected bonus. But when

you figured out who pulled the trigger, we needed a way

to keep you in check. It is part of my job to learn about

people. Their families, backgrounds, careers, loved ones.

I know you have barely seen your parents in ten years. I

know you have little family or friends. But you do have

a woman who holds your heart. So piercing her would

pierce you." She smiled. "So to speak."

"My brother," I said. "You were behind it. You killed

him."

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Jason Pinter

"Guilty," she said. "When you run an organization, the

buck stops with you. When your brother learned about our

plans to diversify our product, he objected. In my line of

business you cannot have employees questioning decisions, or threatening to divulge company secrets. He came

to you, and that's when I decided he had to be dealt with."

"Dealt with," I said. "That's a pleasant term for coldblooded murder."

"Nothing around here happens without my say-so,"

Ramos said. "And if you do not write this for me, I will

take your woman, Amanda, and I will make her scream

so loud that even if you do make it to heaven, Henry, her

cries will pierce the ears of God himself.

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