14
“He’s alive!” Harlow exclaimed, striding into Clyde’s apartment the minute he opened the door.
She went into the kitchen and pulled the Jack Daniels from the cabinet to swig the liquor straight from the bottle. It probably wasn’t smart for her to drink anymore; she wasn’t going to be capable of making smart choices if she got drunk. But if there was ever a good reason to make dumb choices, Ryske had given it to her.
“And you don’t want him to be alive,” Clyde said, coming into her field of vision. “Wait… are you telling me your whole plan was to kill the guy? Are you nuts, Harlow? You can’t commit murder.”
Lowering the bottle, she squinted at him. “What? Who are you talking about?”
“This Hagan person. That’s his name, isn’t it? Or, was it his guy? The one you call Alleyman. Is that
