Page 72 of Bitter Truth
Reaching into my pockets, I pull out a glass vial from each and hold them up for him to see. “In one hand, I have some regular old glycerin. In the other, some potassium permanganate. On their own, they’re inert.You can buy them at most hardware stores.”
I transfer them both to the same palm and smile.
“But when they’re combined, they cause fire.”
He points toward the ceiling. “That’s why we have a sprinkler system.”
“And that’s why I picked an accelerant that water will just make worse. And since I have them in these fragile glass containers, should they drop, like if I was injured, well, that would mean we’re both in very big trouble.”
For the first time, Garrett looks unsure of himself. He shakes his head. “There’s no way that’s true.”
“I’ll wait while you google it, if you’d like?”
He pulls his phone from his pocket, glances at the screen, but clearly realizes he’ll have to take his attention off me longer than is wise in order to perform the search.
“Yeah, no. I’m calling BS. You’re just trying to distract me.”
“I assure you, I’m not.”
“So I’m just supposed to believe that you know this stuff?”
“You are aware that I’ve spent the last fifteen years working for the FBI, aren’t you?”
The concern creasing his face eases, a small smile appearing on his lips. “So? I’ve got plenty of friends there. I know that’s not something they’d teach you.”
“You’re right, it’s not. But you see, I spent fourteen of those years analyzing data, looking for connections between crimes. That means a lot of reading. A lot of research. I’m sure you heard about the Tampa Torcher. That serial arsonist several years back?”
The way his gaze goes wary, the skin of his throat stretching as he swallows tells me he has.
“Well, I’m the one who discovered the links thatproved the fires were started by the same person. And who was able to predict his next move, enabling the FBI to catch him. Learned all kinds of interesting things in the process. So rest assured when I tell you, if I drop these vials, you’re dead.”
Pulling at his shirt collar, he says, “There’s no way. I mean, if you did that, you’d die first.”
“True. But if I don’t do something to stop you, I’m dead anyway, right?”
“I’m closer to the door. How do you know I won’t escape?”
“You might. From me. But all Janine’s hard work here”—he winces as I gesture with the hand holding the vials—“won’t. I’ve already taken the liberty of mailing her a letter letting her know that if this happens, it was your choice. On your watch. And something tells me she won’t be too happy with you if this all goes up in smoke.”
“What do you want?”
“World peace. But I’ll settle for you backing off and making sure Janine does the same. Which means no more snipers. No more hitmen. No more attempts to kill me, or Jake. He and I get to live the remainder of our natural lives together without having to worry about what she’s going to try next.”
“She won’t go for that.”
“She’s in prison. And I hate to break it to you, but she’s going to be there for a very long time. So without someone on the outside to orchestrate things for her and arrange payment, she’ll have to.”
His lips purse, jaw jutting forward while he thinks. “By the same reasoning, wouldn’t that mean I’d be safe from her, as well?”
“No.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because if I die, Jake will take over and do your job for you. Just long enough until you’re gone. And I’m betting that with Janine’s connections and support that won’t take long.”
It’s a lie. He’d have to know about Garrett’s existence and involvement first. But Garrett doesn’t need to know that. All he needs to believe is that Janine’s insatiable appetite for vengeance might be hereditary.
“And you’re just going to take my word for it, if I agree? I simply tell you that you’re safe and we both leave here today and go our separate ways?”
