When the elderly couple stepped out of their car into the dawn light of the parking lot, Harlan knew he should kill them.
He glanced at his watch. Nineteen minutes before his client’s arrival. Witnesses were a problem that needed to be eliminated. Like the joggers from last week.
“Excu-u-u-use me?” The woman’s voice warbled, like the bleating of a lamb addressing a butcher. “Do you-ou-ou-ou know, where-re-re dock 13 i-i-is?”
Harlan then heard the boat’s engine, as if it were calling him. He then lead the grateful couple to their boat, which pulled out of dock 13 as Harlan’s client arrived.
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