“It was child’s play. They’ll never pin it on me.”
Keller’s voice drifted out from under the stairwell. Beecher didn’t glance his way, but those words shredded his mind. Doubt became blinding fear, and the unimaginable — reality.
Who hired him? Chris Keller.
Guys like Keller are hunters.
That bastard had killed Gary, and now he made puns about it. What kind of monster had he forgiven? Beecher gagged as he stumbled to his pod.
He never heard O’Reily’s laugh. “Thank fucking god, Keller. I was so sick of chicken nuggets. If you hadn’t done it, I would have.”