Waist Deep

51

I’d been through enough of Jackson’s house to know there was a large roll of duct tape in one of the kitchen drawers.I used it to tape his hands and feet to the chair.He glared at me carefully throughout the process.

“Don’t be stupid,” I said.

“I’m not planning on it.”

“I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”

He shrugged, as if to say maybe you will and maybe you won’t, but he didn’t try any moves while I finished taping him to the chair.

“What time is the girl coming over tonight?” I asked, putting the tape back into the drawer.

“What girl?”

I smacked the back of his head with my palm.He grunted.“The one you had scheduled for a solo shoot tonight,” I reminded him.

“Oh.Her.”

“Yeah, her.”

“Ten or so.She’s kind of flighty.”

“What’s her name?”

“Candi.With an i.”

Of course.

“I’ll be back before ten,” I said.“If Kris is where you say she is, then we’ll settle this.If she isn’t, you might want to re-think whether I’m up to killing you or not.”

For the first time since I told him I wasn’t going to kill him, fear crept back into RogerJackson’s eyes. I found myself liking that.I liked it quite a bit. I smiled at him while I patted his pockets. I removed his wallet and tossed it on the table.

“You have a cell phone?” I asked.

He shook his head.

I grabbed a steak knife from a kitchen drawer and sliced the telephone cord a foot from the wall.Then I checked the tape at his hands and feet and left.