Blood Vow

"He got a pretty good deal," Bailey thought as he watched Camacho quietly succumb on the gurney. "Any one of his victims, given a choice, would much rather have gone out the way he did than the way they did."

Yet Bailey would not dwell on the point. Hours later, their collective mood of cold contentment still upon them, Bailey, Hersley, and Miller gathered a final time in a Huntsville motel room to once more salute the moment.

"To a job well done," said Miller, lifting a glass of Asti Spumante, the sort of gesture she knew Pamela would have appreciated.

"To Pamela," Bailey replied.
All three took a long drink.