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A bullet in the brain had been the official cause of death, but Eve saw sex as the trigger

It was the only connection between them, and the only link to their murderer

Thoughtfully, she picked up the 38 It was familiar in her hand now She knew exactly how it felt when it fired, the way the punch of it sung up the arm The sound it made when the

Still holding the gun, she cued up the disc she’d requisitioned and watched Sharon DeBlass’s ain

What did you feel, you bastard? she wondered What did you feel when you squeezed the trigger and sent that slug of lead into her, when the blood spewed out, when her eyes rolled up dead?

What did you feel?

Eyes narrowed, she reran the disc She was almost immune to the nastiness of it now There was, she noted, the slightest waver in the video, as if he’d jostled the camera

Did your arm jerk? she wondered Did it shock you, the way her body flew back, how far the blood splattered?

Is that why she could hear the soft sob of breath, the slow exhale before the ied?

What did you feel? she asked again Revulsion, pleasure, or just cold satisfaction?

She leaned closer to the ed now, the scene set as the caht, coldly

Then why the jostle? Why the sob?

And the note She picked up the sealed envelope and read it again How did you know you’d be satisfied to stop at six? Have you already picked them out? Selected them?

Dissatisfied, she ejected the disc, replaced it and the 38 Loading the Starr disc, taking the second weapon, Eve ran through the process again

No jostle this ti’s sht, hoould feel, how she’d look, how the blood would smell