Stake to the heart

“Yes, it certainly is clever. So—” D began to say, but, as he looked over
his shoulder, a pale little hand slammed a wooden wedge into his chest.
Staggering back, D thudded to the floor. Surely he never dreamed Lori
would reach around from behind him to put a stake in him.
But, in fact, Lori hadn’t driven a stake into him at all.

With the realization that D’s body wasn’t moving in the slightest, the
girl’s sweet countenance suddenly crumbled, and an indescribably crude
smile surfaced in its place. The voice that came from her was that of a man.
“Now that’s the way you do it! That’s one obstacle out of the way, I guess. I
bet it never occurred to him I might slip into the little lady he trusted the
most. No hard feelings, bucko. Everything in life just boils down to
business.”

When the girl smiled broadly once again, her expression was
unmistakably that of John M. Brasselli Pluto VIII.

The town kept moving. D still lay on the floor with a stake through his
heart.

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