Consent To Kill

With a rubber-handled crescent wrench, he crawled under the big metallic tank and began to slowly loosen the gas line that ran from the bottom of the tank, underground, and into the house. With every half turn he'd stop and listen. He didn't want the co

If all went according to plan, the gas cans would be knocked over by the initial explosion. The cascading fuel would reach the underside of the large tank almost immediately. The fireball from the house would ignite the gas which in turn would mix with the slow leak from the large tank. The secondary explosion would obliterate the extension cord, the remote receiving unit, the gas cans, and probably the entire house. With no evidence left, all fingers would be pointed at the Chesapeake Bay Propane Company.

38

Rapp came out of his drug-induced sleep feeling groggy and disoriented. After a moment he realized he was in a hospital room. He looked down the length of his body at his knee. His leg was there, but he couldn't feel anything. It was propped up in the air and covered with a blanket. Her touch was so gentle he didn't even notice at first that she was holding his hand. He slowly turned his head and looked into his wife's beautiful green eyes. Rapp blinked several times and looked around the room. The shades were drawn. He had no idea how long he'd been out. When he looked back at A

"Thirsty," he answered in a hoarse voice.

She raised the bed up a few degrees and gave him some water through a straw. "The doctor says you did great."

Rapp looked around the room again. "What time is it?"

"A little before eleven."

"In the morning?"

"Yes."

Rapp rubbed his eyes. "When can we get the hell out of here?"

She smiled. "I told them you wouldn't want to wait around."

"Can you open the shades?"

Rielly got up and pulled back the heavy gray plastic curtains.

Rapp squinted. He had the twisted look on his face that belongs to an extremely hungover man who is forced to endure the bright midday light without sunglasses. A

"Can you feel anything, yet?" the doctor asked.

Rapp wondered which answer would get him home quicker. "A little bit."

"Does it hurt?"

Rapp shrugged.

The doctor nodded. "Since you've been ru

"Yeah."

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"Fine," Rapp lied. He had a splitting headache and was slightly nauseated.

"Your wife says you don't want to take anything stronger than Tylenol Three."

Rapp nodded.

"Good, but if you change your mind, call and we'll get you something better."

"The Tylenol will be fine."

"I'll get the nurse to give you a five-day supply. You're in great shape, so I think you're going to recover quickly."

Rapp sat up a little more. "When can I start ru

"I'd like to see you give it up altogether, but since I know that isn't going to happen, you should wait at least a month."

"A month?" Rapp asked, obviously not happy with the answer.

The truth was two weeks, but the doctor dealt with guys like this all the time. No matter what he told them, they'd divide by two. "You can do some light biking in four days, and you can try swimming as long as it doesn't hurt, but I really want you to lay off the ru

"When can I leave?" asked Rapp again.

"I'll get the paperwork started, and we'll get you out of here in no time."

Rapp's idea of no time was fifteen minutes. The doctor's was an hour, so it was 12:07 by the time they wheeled him out the front door. He was dressed in a pair of workout shorts and a blue Syracuse T-shirt. His knee was bandaged and he noticed for the first time someone had placed a powder blue booty on his left foot. A

She got behind the wheel and pulled away from the hospital. "You must be starving."

Rapp dug through the glove box and found an old pair of sunglasses he kept in her car. Even though it was a slightly overcast day, the light was really bugging him. "Not really," he answered. "It must be the drugs."

"Straight home then?"

"Yeah."

They cruised through the light midday traffic and within ten minutes they were nearing the Beltway. Rapp was starting to feel better. Up ahead he spotted the golden arches and suddenly he was extremely hungry all over again.

"Let's stop at this McDonald's on the right."

"McDonald's?" she asked in a disapproving tone. Rielly was extremely health conscious.

"Honey, humor me. I'm starving."

"All right." She reluctantly hit the turn signal.

A few seconds later they were in the drive-through lane and Rapp was placing his order. When he was done he asked A

Back on the road Rapp tore into his Big Mac with a fury. In between gulps of Coke and fistfuls of fries he finished the Big Mac in short order and moved on to a Quarter Pounder with cheese.

A

Rapp kept eating and she kept driving. He'd finished every last scrap of food and was working on his large Coke when they turned onto their street. Rapp leaned back and said, "That really tasted good, but why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret eating it?"

"Maybe because you just consumed an entire day's worth of calories, and enough fat, salt, and sugar to last you a week."

Rapp knew she was right, but he turned to her and said, "Oh, was it ever delicious though."

"You're definitely going to regret it."

Rapp looked down the road. Their house was coming up on the left. A sweat was forming on his forehead and upper lip. His stomach turned and he felt a little light-headed. He looked over at A