Site icon Cara Thereon

Playing God

Cara Thereon's kitten sipping milk from her finger

“May I have a cup of coffee?”

He was awful calm for a man covered in blood. The smile he gave was all teeth, chilling me.

“Grab him a cup, a small one.”

My partner rose from his chair and exited without a word. The click of the door echoed in the silent room.

I was nervous. After twenty-five years and more cases than I cared to remember, I was nervous around this man. This one could sense my nerves. I watched him lift his head and sniff the air, drawing in one long breath before exhaling with a sigh.

The silence stretched as we waited. I told myself it was to make him sweat, but the twinkle in his eye told me he’d read me with ease.

Mick returned with two cups. I gave a nod of thanks when he sat one in front of me. No plans on drinking it, but having it near calmed me.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

He lifted his cuffed hands, grabbing the cup to bring it to his lips. His eyes met mine as he sipped. I felt that same chill.

“I slit her throat, detective.”

The way he said it, between sips, as though it was a task he had to complete before dinner, made me blink.

“Would you like me to write it down or do you record confessions now?”

Mick stopped jotting notes on his pad and glanced over at me. We’d been partners for ten years, long enough I could read his mind.

“Just talk, we’ll get what we need.”

He chuckled softly. “Very well.”

The empty cup was sat aside, allowing him to link his fingers in front of him.

“As I was saying, I killed her, on the drive back from the dinner party.”

His frank honest was strangely unsettling.

“But why? She was your wife.”

“Does it matter why? My reasons won’t make her death… Excuse me, her murder, more palatable to you.”

If I wasn’t mistaking this son of a bitch was proud of himself. I glanced over at Mick again.

“In truth, I did it because I could.” He held my gaze a little longer before dropping his eyes to his clasped hands. “Do you think I’m evil, detective?”

I wanted to say yes. My gut was telling me this was a man who’d killed before, and enjoyed it.

“You tell me.”

“Not evil, simply doing what most people dream of doing.” The corner of his mouth tilted up, his eyes still on his hands. “Playing god.”

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