One Good Turn (A James Bishop Short Story) by Jason Dean

Author:Jason Dean [Dean, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller, Short Fiction
ISBN: 9781472221391
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2014-03-31T23:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Lyle was still perched half on the desk, his right hand inches away from Sylvia’s gun. He stared at the man, then looked down at the revolver.

‘I wouldn’t,’ the driver said. The hand holding Michael’s gun was perfectly steady.

Sylvia was trying to take everything in at the same time. Her heart was pounding at a rate of knots. Michael had gone silent and was slowly sliding down the glass until he crumpled on to the patio, his head lying almost at a right angle on his shoulder. The driver’s arm hadn’t moved at all. The gun was still pointed at Lyle’s head. Lyle was still looking down at his own gun on the desk. Weighing the possibilities.

Pick up the gun, she willed him silently. Please. Just pick it up and then I’ll be finally rid of you.

‘Down on the floor,’ the driver said. ‘You’ve got three seconds. One.’

Lyle raised his eyes and studied the man before him. The hand holding the gun didn’t move a millimetre. The driver could have been a statue. Sylvia was holding her breath.

‘Two.’

There was no three. Lyle’s right hand moved and he snatched up the revolver by its handle. He’d only raised it an inch off the desk when there was a sound like thunder and a large hole appeared in his right cheek. His body was thrown backwards from the impact and he fell to the floor somewhere behind the desk. The driver ran over to him, still gripping his gun with both hands.

Sylvia exhaled and looked down at Michael at her feet. He was still slumped in the same awkward position. There were no signs of movement. None at all. He was clearly dead.

Raising her head, she saw the driver standing behind the desk. He was looking down at the floor as he placed his gun in his waistband. He turned to her and motioned for her to come inside. Which immediately told her that Lyle was now out of commission. One way or another. She stepped through the doorway and walked over to the desk, making sure to keep the body out of her eyeline.

‘Is he . . .?’ she began.

The man nodded. She noticed he was wearing black gloves. ‘He made his choice,’ he said. ‘I did warn him.’

‘I know.’ She’d wanted Lyle dead, and now he was. She thought she might feel some remorse, but she only felt glad. ‘How much did you hear?’

‘Most of it, I’d say.’

‘Well, I’m really grateful you came back. But why did you?’

‘Coming up the driveway before, I thought I spotted somebody standing at the other side of the house, watching us. That puzzled me. And then there was that story of yours, which wasn’t entirely convincing.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You said that after escaping from that basement, you ran for miles across the fields to reach Hartsville, when it would have made far more sense to run straight here instead. It might have taken longer, but you would have been on home ground again. Which I figure would have been infinitely preferable.

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