“Talk to me, God dammit,” Jason demanded. “Wait a minute.” Vick spit out his words. “I’m trying to take a picture with this piece of shit phone.” Jason tightened his grip on the receiver. Soon, very soon, the ex-con’s services wouldn’t be needed. Then he’d kill the son of a bitch for speaking to him in that tone of voice. There’d be no witnesses. Vick wouldn’t be around to talk or blackmail. “I’m sending it right now,” Vick said. “Got a good shot of her and her boyfriend.” “Boyfriend? The guy you saw at her house?” Jason’s blood pressure shot higher. “He’s there?” “Yeah. And he’s with the FBI.” “Fed or not, he won’t be able to keep her alive. Stay with them.” “How long?” “Until the bitch thinks she’s tucked safely under the covers. Is the guy we used for the break-in gone?” “Not yet. I’ll take care of him.” Vick’s tone had a disgusting touch of sadness. Jason refused to consider why Vick regretted having to kill the guy.
