My lips are sealed

“You don’t have to do this,” Sara whimpered, trembling as she tried not to move lest Thurston accidentally slice her neck.

“Oh, but I do, dear Sara,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know too much, sadly. I really didn’t want to have to do this.”

“You don’t! Really, you don’t! I don’t know anything, Thurston.”

Thurston laughed, pressing the blade a little closer, a little harder.

“No?” he asked. “It wasn’t you asking questions all over town about Missy? It wasn’t you putting the idea in everyone’s head that her death wasn’t an accident, or if not an accident, perhaps some itinerant killer, some fluke, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? That wasn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but it’s just because, well, Sheriff Parker found her bag on the peak of Roddy Hill and her body in the ravine, Thurston. Missy wasn’t in the habit of just taking off by herself to go hiking. I had to drag her when I wanted to go.”

“You know that. I know that. No one else did, Sara, until you started asking questions all over town. Now you've got everyone including the sheriff curious and wondering about what might have happened to poor Thurston's Missy," he growled.

“Please, Thurston. I promise. My lips are sealed. I’ll go to my grave with your secret.”

Thurston smiled though Sara couldn’t see him. “Yes, Sara, yes you will.”

“Th-“ was all Sara managed to say (Thank you? Thurston?) before he ensured that, indeed, she would keep her promise…with a little help from his straight razor.