‹ Prequel: Devil
Carnage
Nobody Can Save Me
"I swear, it wasn't me!"
"We'll see about that. How else can you explain it?"
"Coincidence!"
"A man is dead, Nebraska, or whatever your fucking name is. That's not a fucking coincidence."
With a groan, she leaned back in the cold, metal seat in the police interrogation room. Nebraska Jones was in over her head.
--
Her and Danny had parted amicably a few months before. She had career ambitions, and couldn't taint his reputation. She liked him a lot, maybe even loved that goofy man, but he didn't belong with her.
Somehow, she'd stumbled straight back to Los Angeles, and directly into the arms of Big Daddy, the stripping mogul of the US (well, he did other things too). That was her first mistake.
"So let me get this straight," she'd purred late one night after her shift ended. "You want me to seduce your wife?"
He'd approached her about an opportunity earlier in the day, just as the sun was rising. It was a lot of money, and Nebraska had always liked money. When he finally explained it to her, she damn near couldn't believe her luck.
"Just once. $15,000."
That was her second mistake.
The job had been completed easily enough. Nebraska was what Tony liked to call a "converter". Her favourite pastime was converting straight women into whatever she wanted them to be. It was a nasty habit, but one she enjoyed nonetheless. Like smoking.
Her only problem with habits like those was that she couldn't stop. Big Daddy had told her once. Just once, so that she would feel guilty enough about her own indiscretion to forgive his. Nebraska didn't deal in moderation, and before she knew it, Kate was talking about leaving Big Daddy.
A broken jaw, two broken ribs, and a bruised kidney later (not to mention two black eyes), Nebraska Jones had learned her lesson.
She was transferred from the bar to working with Rene, the southern enforcer who collected money from people who owed Big Daddy. If there was one thing she learned, it was that you did not want to owe Big Daddy.
That lasted two months. Big Daddy's body was found beneath a bridge. Kate didn't even pretend to mourn.
--
His case was a walking wet dream for the new detective assigned to it, Ryan Percy. It seemed very open and shut. Girl moves in on wife, man retaliates, girl kills man.
But that wasn't how it happened at all.
Well, Nebraska didn't know how it happened. But she did know that she didn't have an alibi. Motive, means, and no alibi made her the number one suspect. The only suspect.
They took her gun (a gift from Tony), and her passport, but she made bail easily, and wandered around Los Angeles in boredom. But nearly everyday, the detective followed her.
"I know she did this," he told his partner, though she was in earshot. "I just have to figure out how to prove it."
The murder weapon still hadn't been found. He'd died of blunt force trauma to the head, and he'd learned from her coworkers that Nebraska knew her way around a tire iron, but nothing had ever been recovered. She was too good.
He ran down the list of known facts nearly every day.
-Motive: sleeping with his wife.
-Means: experience with beatings
-Alibi: None
-Foreigner, no ties or loyalty to Big Daddy
-Gut feeling of guiltiness.
She tried to convince him otherwise.
"Drop the charges, Ryan," she pleaded, throwing away formalities. "I didn't do this."
He persisted.
Nothing else helped her case.
Within a few months of Big Daddy's death, Kate had given Nebraska control of his territory, from L.A. to Baltimore. She said she just didn't want to have to deal with it, and soon left the country entirely, settling in the Caribbean.
Nebraska called Tony.
"We'll see about that. How else can you explain it?"
"Coincidence!"
"A man is dead, Nebraska, or whatever your fucking name is. That's not a fucking coincidence."
With a groan, she leaned back in the cold, metal seat in the police interrogation room. Nebraska Jones was in over her head.
--
Her and Danny had parted amicably a few months before. She had career ambitions, and couldn't taint his reputation. She liked him a lot, maybe even loved that goofy man, but he didn't belong with her.
Somehow, she'd stumbled straight back to Los Angeles, and directly into the arms of Big Daddy, the stripping mogul of the US (well, he did other things too). That was her first mistake.
"So let me get this straight," she'd purred late one night after her shift ended. "You want me to seduce your wife?"
He'd approached her about an opportunity earlier in the day, just as the sun was rising. It was a lot of money, and Nebraska had always liked money. When he finally explained it to her, she damn near couldn't believe her luck.
"Just once. $15,000."
That was her second mistake.
The job had been completed easily enough. Nebraska was what Tony liked to call a "converter". Her favourite pastime was converting straight women into whatever she wanted them to be. It was a nasty habit, but one she enjoyed nonetheless. Like smoking.
Her only problem with habits like those was that she couldn't stop. Big Daddy had told her once. Just once, so that she would feel guilty enough about her own indiscretion to forgive his. Nebraska didn't deal in moderation, and before she knew it, Kate was talking about leaving Big Daddy.
A broken jaw, two broken ribs, and a bruised kidney later (not to mention two black eyes), Nebraska Jones had learned her lesson.
She was transferred from the bar to working with Rene, the southern enforcer who collected money from people who owed Big Daddy. If there was one thing she learned, it was that you did not want to owe Big Daddy.
That lasted two months. Big Daddy's body was found beneath a bridge. Kate didn't even pretend to mourn.
--
His case was a walking wet dream for the new detective assigned to it, Ryan Percy. It seemed very open and shut. Girl moves in on wife, man retaliates, girl kills man.
But that wasn't how it happened at all.
Well, Nebraska didn't know how it happened. But she did know that she didn't have an alibi. Motive, means, and no alibi made her the number one suspect. The only suspect.
They took her gun (a gift from Tony), and her passport, but she made bail easily, and wandered around Los Angeles in boredom. But nearly everyday, the detective followed her.
"I know she did this," he told his partner, though she was in earshot. "I just have to figure out how to prove it."
The murder weapon still hadn't been found. He'd died of blunt force trauma to the head, and he'd learned from her coworkers that Nebraska knew her way around a tire iron, but nothing had ever been recovered. She was too good.
He ran down the list of known facts nearly every day.
-Motive: sleeping with his wife.
-Means: experience with beatings
-Alibi: None
-Foreigner, no ties or loyalty to Big Daddy
-Gut feeling of guiltiness.
She tried to convince him otherwise.
"Drop the charges, Ryan," she pleaded, throwing away formalities. "I didn't do this."
He persisted.
Nothing else helped her case.
Within a few months of Big Daddy's death, Kate had given Nebraska control of his territory, from L.A. to Baltimore. She said she just didn't want to have to deal with it, and soon left the country entirely, settling in the Caribbean.
Nebraska called Tony.