Well, if he does not think I am mad now, he certainly will when I make an exclamation of 'damn', brushing my chin with the sleeve of my spare arm and placing the half-full glass onto the edge of the table in such a way that it topples, spilling the remaining drink over a genuine polar bear rug.
Immediately, he is frantic. Hastily putting down his own glass and dropping to the floor to pick up my now empty one. So, he does not suspect me - that is something - as he is at my feet, vulnerable, his neck and back exposed.
I may have the upper hand. And I will need it. Running my tongue across my lower lip, I can taste the contents of the glass. Brandy, undeniably. But something else, something...caustic. Just this taste is enough to make me nauseous; what would a full swig have done to me?
It is proven then. He knows!
POST A COMMENT
Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.
64 COMMENTS ABOUT THIS STORY RSS
Author Guidance for this Story
CHARACTERS:-- You (Edward) - a police officer in your mid-30's
-- Cal Beauchamp - a wealthy, respected 28-year-old businessman who you know to be a murderer.
-- Gabrielle - your 19-year-old sister who is engaged to Cal and recently pregnant.
-- Joseph - normal-looking 30-something-year-old guy who does Tarot readings on the street.
-- Old man - an old man who dresses like a gypsy and works on the street, saying creepy rude things to people for money.
-- Nicolas Dias - depen