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“Keep calm. There’s no way that he can know anything, so just… don’t let him rattle you.”

He glared at her.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he muttered. “You’re not the one he’s questioning. The way he looks at you, it’s like he can see right into-”

She pressed a finger against his lips, then replaced it with a kiss.

“You can do this,” she said. “I believe in you.”

He took a deep breath, then looked up at her and nodded.

She didn’t see the danger. He could see that much in her eyes. The same confidence that had glittered there the night she put the gun in his hand, it glittered there still. She honestly believed that they would get away with it and ride off into the sunset.

Still, something worried him. There was something about that detective. A subtle sharpness that he tried to hide behind that shabby beige raincoat and dishevelled exterior. There was something disguised behind the distracted behaviour and the fumbling through his pockets for supposedly vital evidence. The way he turned back just as he was about to leave to ask an apparently innocent question. It was never innocent.

He knew, deep down, that he was in trouble.

© Kari Fay

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