He looked down at the knife, now a stainless steel extension of his limb. He

loosened his grip. “Will you let me go?” she gasped. “I…I really do like you.”

He took a step back.

 

She forced a smile. “I promise I won’t tell.” Rogers took another step back. He

could just leave, he thought.

 

She looked over his shoulder. “I think he just moved,” she said breathlessly.

“Are you sure he’s dead?” Rogers turned to look.

 

The flash of movement caught his attention. She had snagged her purse and pulled

a gun from it. He saw the muzzle of the nickelplated revolver sweeping upward to

take aim at his chest.

 

He struck with astonishing swiftness and then stepped to the side as the

arterial spray from her slashed neck erupted outward, narrowly missing him.

 

She toppled forward and smacked the pavement face first, ruining her pretty

features, not that it mattered now. The revolver she had pulled from her handbag

struck the hard surface and clattered away.

 

Rogers, pressed for time, cleaned out the cash from the young man’s wallet and

the woman’s purse. He neatly folded the bills into his pocket.

 

He positioned the shattered bat in the hand of the young woman and put the gun