by M. K. Wren
Like a gift from heaven. Brian’s bitter words. Conan thrust the letter into his jacket pocket and strode to the door. “Steve, I’m going to the hospital. I’ll return this.” Neither Steve nor Kleber offered any objections, but Dix popped out of his chair.
“Wait a minute! You can’t take that letter!”
Conan turned on him. “I will take it. It was written in Eliot Nye’s blood as much as the dying testament he left—tried to leave—in his death chamber. The letter was addressed to you, but the message is addressed by circumstance to Brian Tally.”
With that, he stalked away. The glass in the door rattled as he slammed it.
He slammed the front door of the station, too, and he was thinking bitterly that undoubtedly the Bard had said something appropriate to this occasion.
All that came to mind was:
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar.
And should Eliot Nye fare better than Caesar?
Yes.
About the Author
M. K. Wren, a widely acclaimed writer and painter, was born in Texas, the daughter of a geologist and a special education teacher. Twenty-five years ago, she found her soul home in the Pacific Northwest, where she wrote Curiosity Didn’t Kill the Cat; A Multitude of Sins; Oh, Bury Me Not; Nothing’s Certain but Death; Seasons of Death; Wake Up, Darlin’ Corey; and the science-fiction trilogy, The Phoenix Legacy. As an artist, Ms. Wren has worked primarily in oils and transparent watercolors and has exhibited in numerous galleries and juried shows in Texas, Oklahoma, and the Northwest.
