He shook his head slowly. “I’m a chemist, Sarah. In the business of killing. I could kill you any time, anywhere, a hundred ways—painfully or quickly—and no one could find me for it. I want you to know that I will do this. And I want you to know, also, that I would not hesitate, even if I knew I’d hang.”
Her chin sagged. “I believe—you would!” she whispered.
“For the purpose of spreading ruin, you’ll have to agree to die. Do you want to?”
“I don’t want to die.”
“Be very sure. It might be worth it. Is it?”
“You’re insane!”
“Maybe. I’m telling you what will happen.”
“All right.”
“Quit?”
“Yes, Jimmie.” Her chest heaved. Her voice was hoarse.