“I know you want to kill him,” Billie said inside Jesse’s head as she confirmed the address of Hoot’s cabin and punched it into her GPS. “So do I. Yes…I think you should. Fuck him again and then kill him.
“A nice remote cabin would be the perfect place.
“Good fuck for an old guy, huh?”
“We’ll see,” Jesse said aloud, turning left.
It seemed almost ironic, Jesse had thought, driving to Port Timothy so soon after her recent adventures nearby. Seemed as if the hand of fate was busy stirring things up, testing her nerve, her luck. Jesse believed in fate – she surely did. It seemed her whole life had been knitted together from scrappy skeins of it.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” the Billie voice said. “I like it!”
“You would…” Jesse quipped aloud, stealing a quick glance in the rearview mirror. The eyes looking back at her were bloodshot eyes only she would recognize. “We have to be very careful with Mister Hooten, the Shooter,” she said. “He’s unpredictable. That makes him risky. And we can’t forget his friend, the Port Timothy chief of police. Together they’re bound to be very dangerous. Patience is the key.”
“I still like it…”
“Shut up, will you?”