Jericho's Razor by Casey Doran

was an asshole. Maybe she got sick of the big city. Maybe a lot of things. But there is one thing that looks strange.”
    â€œTell me.”
    â€œShe was involved in a shooting while she was off duty. According to the reports, she walked in on a robbery in progress at a gas station and killed three suspects. The clerk was also killed, apparently in the crossfire. The department investigated, but didn’t find—”
    I interrupted Gus with a violent coughing fit. I hunched over while dry heaving, holding the phone off to the side with one hand while pitching the cigarette with the other.
    â€œYou really need to learn that quitting smoking means not doing it anymore.” Gus said while I hacked. “You can barely get through one without hacking up your spleen. Give them up already.”
    â€œThat would be no fun.”
    â€œFunny. You like things that are bad for you. Cigarettes. Women.”
    â€œYou flatter me.”
    â€œBut speaking of women, this lady has ‘ up and comer and looking to make a name for herself ’ written all over her. So watch your ass.”
    That certainly sounded like the woman I just met.
    â€œAnd by the way,” Gus said. “I hesitate to even bring this up, but it has not escaped my attention that Detective Jagger looks like she could cause a supermodel to have confidence issues. I’m positive it did not escape yours, seeing as how she is exactly your type.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œIt means she is attractive, smart, and doesn’t take any shit. A real ball-buster. And more important, she is exactly the kind of woman you tend to gravitate toward.”
    I watched people hurry up and down Main Street from one nightclub to the next. Life was already turning to normal. And now the college students had a cool story to discuss over their beers and bullshit.
    â€œThere hasn’t been anyone since Katrina, Gus. You know that.”
    â€œYes, I do know that. But Alyssa Jagger will try whatever means she can to get you to lower your guard. Do you understand what I am saying?”
    â€œYeah. I hear you.”
    I ended the call and entered my building. Griffin and his team were gone, and the silence created an eerie aftermath that was heightened by the faded stains on the ceiling and walls. Twenty-one hours since the murder had taken place, but the violence that had transpired here hung in the area like a living entity. I wondered if I would ever again be able to come down here, or if I should just get used to parking on Main Street.
    Upstairs, Doomsday met me at the door and hip checked me as soon as I walked in. With everything that had been going on, he hadn’t had much of a chance to get out. I followed him down the stairs and outside where he cut a path up Main Street. Downtown was all but deserted. The excitement caused by the murder was over and you could feel the sense of exhaustion from all the drama in the empty streets. Places were shut down early and windows that were normally lit up were dark and reflecting my distorted image as I walked past. Up ahead, I could hear my dog sniffing around for a familiar spot in which to mark his territory. He finally settled into one of his favorites and squatted as a cold wind swept down my back. I dug my hands in my coat and waited. Finished, he reversed course and passed me on the way back home, apparently done for the night.
    It was almost eleven by the time I made it back upstairs, undressed and crashed into bed. But sleep came slowly. I found myself listening for any noises that sounded out of place, any alerts from my phone that would trigger another reenactment of Christian’s Black’s murderous works. Now that the police presence had disappeared, I wondered if the killer was planning to make a return visit.
    Finally, after seeing Doomsday flop in the corner of the room for the night, and with the .45 within arm’s reach, I fell into a restless