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“Right. Yes.”

Kennedy nodded and turned away.

“I would have fired,” Jason said to his back.

Kennedy turned to face him, regarding Jason steadily, bleakly.

“Thank you for what you did earlier, but it wasn’t necessary.”

Kennedy said, “West, the only reason you’re not dead is because he didn’t want to kill you.” He sounded as tired as Gervase had at the end.

“That’s not—” Jason stopped. “I would have fired. I was squeezing the trigger.”

“You didn’t fire. You didn’t shoot. He let off five rounds. You didn’t return fire once.”

“I thought I could talk him down. I was talking him down.”

Kennedy closed his eyes as though in pain.

“You can think what you want. I didn’t freeze. I would have fired if I hadn’t had another choice.”

Kennedy started to answer, then stopped. He said finally, “You’re too smart not to understand the potential consequences—for everyone—of being wrong about this. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Their gazes remained locked. Jason nodded.

Kennedy didn’t believe him, but Jason was telling the truth. He had been about to fire. For him, the nadir had been during those minutes when he had been frozen with fear in that cellar doorway. He had hit rock bottom, but he had come back from it. In fact, there was a kind of comfort in knowing no bullet could ever hurt like the pain he had faced in that basement.

“What about Kyser?” he asked.

Kennedy frowned. “What about him? He’s not part of this case. If he wants to behave like a freak, that’s his business.”

Right. It wasn’t against the law to be a very weird guy.

“Okay. Well, I guess that’s it.”

Kennedy nodded and once more turned his back to walk away.

What the hell. You only lived once.

“How often do you get to L.A.?” Jason called.

Kennedy stopped. Turned. He looked at Jason. Impassive and cool. Shook his head. “No.”

For the record. All purpose and all encompassing. In answer to any question you could ever ask…

No.

Not even a polite and face-saving sorry to say, not that often.

Nope. Just a flat and businesslike no.

Police line. Do not cross.

“Right. Well, nice working with you.” It was kind of amazing Jason got the words out so calmly, given the way his throat closed like a vise on that final you.

This time it was Jason who turned away.

* * * * *


Tags: Josh Lanyon The Art of Murder Mystery