Through the windows behind her victim, the lights of New Orleans glittered as another Christmas drew to a close on the bayou. The drunken carousing was in full swing, but tonight it wasn’t her problem. Tonight she was just a woman with a gun and a mission she hated more than her worst enemy. The sounds of the loud bar echoed through the restroom, disguising the snitch’s babbling. Kenny Douglas was a police informant known for caving under pressure. He’d given a lot of bad information over the years, and at least one officer had taken a bullet for this piece of shit’s bad intel. “You’re crazy, bitch. Someone, help!” Kenny tried to twist, but the leather belt held him in place. He had a bump on his head, but she hadn’t been able to help that. He was a small man, about five-eight, just her size. Taking him by surprise had been her best option. The law-abiding cop in her screamed, revolted by how low she’d sunk.
