"You told me that you were killing them quickly and burying them in a shallow grave. Instead I find that you're keeping them locked in cages in a basement for weeks. That's a hell of a lot more risk for you, which means it's a hell of a lot more risk for me. Finish them off. We'll take it from there."

"How?"

"I don't care how. Strangle them like you said you did. Stick a fucking knife in their head. It doesn't matter. Just do it."

Ken really didn't want to do this, especially not with Olivia so close to passing away on her own, but he knew better than to argue. "I'll get a knife from upstairs," he said.

He walked past Vivian and opened the top door. The way things were going tonight, it wouldn't have surprised him to see Darrell waiting up there, but the upstairs was still empty. He went into the kitchen, unsure if there were any utensils actually available. He'd never prepared a meal in this house, though he assumed Darrell had shared a snack with at least one of his mistresses.

He opened a couple of drawers and found one with forks, spoons, and knives. He selected a pretty good steak knife. Ken wouldn't use it for one-on-one combat, but it should do the trick against a helpless girl locked in a cage.

He shut the drawer and leaned against the counter. He couldn't believe how badly he'd messed things up. He should've realized how suspicious Vivian was getting and been more careful. Hell, as much of an idiot as he'd been, he deserved to starve to death in one of those cages himself.

He walked back downstairs, shutting the door behind him.

"Pretty small knife," she said.

"House didn't come with butcher knives."

Vivian cupped her hands over her nose and mouth as Ken punched in the code. He opened the door just a bit, waiting for the smell to waft over them.

"Do you want to watch or...?"

"I'll wait here."

"Okay." Ken walked into the room with the cages, and closed the door.

* * *

Warren looked shaken and grim as he entered the room, holding a knife.

"Listen to me," said Gertie. "I know how we can work this out."

He ignored her and walked past her cage.

"I've got money," she called out after him. "I'd signed a non-disclosure agreement so I couldn't tell you before, but I got a ton of money for the movie rights to my story. It's enough for me to disappear. I can buy a new identity. I'll leave the country and you'll never hear from me again."

Warren returned with a stepladder. He set it next to the cage of the other woman who seemed to still be alive, if only barely.

"I know a guy," Gertie insisted. "He can make it happen right away."