Jack wipes sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “You ever read that Poe story?”
I look up, but my hands keep working. “Which one? The guy wrote tons of stuff.”
“The one with the old guy.” Jack thrusts deeper with the knife.
A spurt of crimson strikes my apron and I flinch. “Be careful, damnit.”
“So, have you read that one?”
“Jack, there’s a couple with old guys.” My knees are tired from kneeling on the tile, but the job is almost finished.
Jack stops. He looks at the bathroom light as if the answer's hiding there.
“The Tell-Tale Heart,” he says, puffing out his smile like he just won the Kentucky Derby or something.
“Oh yeah.” I look at the mess in the tub. We’ve got most of the corpse dismembered. “Cuts the old guy up, buries him under the floorboards.”
Jack nods and holds up a lump of meat. A few ticks pass before I realize what he’s holding. “Be a shame if we heard this thing beating later on, wouldn’t it?”