SHORT ROUND REDNECK’S FACE disappears a split second before his body hits the kitchen floor.
The twins drop down onto their stomachs and scream.
Suzanne pulls out her gun, aims it at me.
Why me?
I reach out, grab the .44 as a shot is fired and brushes the short hair on my head. Raising up the Magnum, I fire at Suzanne, and hit her in the chest. She’s gone before her knees even begin to buckle.
I just killed the world’s best literary agent.
That’s when the canister of tear gas plops onto the floor by my feet and explodes.
