“Do you believe in the death penalty?” Ed asked, still staring at me, his smile gone. I suddenly didn’t like his attention. “Sure, for really bad stuff.” “Like what?” I shrugged, ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth. It was dry even though I’d just had a drink. It felt like it was taking longer to blink, too, like the messenger between my brain and eyes kept falling asleep. “Murder,” I said. Ed’s mouth quirked, an ugly gesture. “Then you’re just as evil as anyone. The killer always comes up with a reason that makes sense to him, but killing a man is killing a man, whether you’re a cop
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