She extended a hand and Megan took it.
Helga hauled her upright and said,“What we’re doing, girlfriend, is getting the hell out of here.”
Jessica kept the gun in front of her and both hands wrapped around the grip, forefinger tensed on the trigger, as she circled the cruiser. She doubted the big cop would be getting back up. Ever. But she wasn’t about to let her guard down now. She strained to detect any hint of movement or slight sigh of breath, but the only sound she heard was the soft crunch of her shoes on the pavement.
Then she was on the other side of the car and staring down at the dead man. One glance was all the confirmation she needed. He wasn’t just wounded and
playing possum. The thing on the ground wasn’t a man anymore. It was just a big lump of meat. The body lay half in and half out of the shallow ditch that separated Larry’s lawn from the road. Though she was certain the man was dead, she approached the body and kicked it hard in the gut.
Yep,
she thought.
That is one dead cop.
She moved closer and peered at the badge pinned to the front of his jacket. It was more ornate than the ones worn by the deputies. The logical assumption occurred to her then: she had just killed the sheriff of Hopkins Bend. She wondered briefly why the sheriff would be here instead of one of the deputies, but remembered that, duh, she’d killed most of them. Maybe all of them. Hopkins Bend wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis. But surely the state cops would be out here in force soon. This was a pretty serious killing spree she’d embarked upon. Hell, it was maybe even wild enough to warrant the attention of the national media. Some prickling of intuition stirred at the back of her mind, and she stared at the dead sheriff a few moments longer, frowning as her mind worked toward a single inescapable conclusion.
The national media wouldn’t be out here any time soon. Or ever.
Nor would the state cops.
Hopkins Bend was a festering, diseased backwater nest of dirty secrets. Things the sheriff and the local power structure would never want to expose to the world. More insights came to her in rapid succession. There would never be a warrant out for her arrest. Not for any of the things she’d done here today, anyway. All she had to do was get the fuck gone and this mess would be behind her forever.
She chewed her lip and frowned again.
Or maybe not.
Yeah, she would never be arrested by the local law. And she’d never openly be fingered as a mass murderer. But they would know about her. Her fingerprints were everywhere. Even if she got rid of the video evidence from the cruisers, she could be identified. Tracked down. She imagined growing complacent as months passed. Saw herself going about her daily life again, until one day a man with a gun slipped into her apartment at night or surprised her in a parking lot. Her guard would be down. It would be easy for them. One round to the head and she’d carry the secrets of Hopkins Bend to the grave forever.
Frustration twisted her features, and she kicked the dead sheriff again.“Fuck!”
She moved away from him and leaned against the cruiser’s fender.
“Settle down,” she told herself, her voice brittle, on the edge of cracking.“Think, dammit.”
Christ, but she’d kill for a cigarette right now. She hadn’t smoked in ages, but she knew renewing the old habit of her juvenile years would calm her for at least a few minutes, long enough to get her head clear. She glanced at Larry’s Nova. There were cigarettes in there.
And something else,
an insidious voice from the murkiest depths of her psyche whispered.
Something better…
She was off the fender and moving again before she was even consciously aware of it. Another voice in her head clamored for attention:
You don’t want to do this! This is a mistake! Please don’t do this!
Jessica opened the passenger’s-side door and dropped into the bucket seat. The glove box flipped open before she could touch it. She gaped at the small amount of white powder in the plastic bag. It wasn’t much, but it would get her focused in a hurry. And that thing with the glove box dropping open had to be a sign. This was
meant to happen. Some power she couldn’t comprehend wanted it to happen. Sure, on a rational level, she knew a faulty latch was to blame. There was nothing mystical about it. But the rational part of her mind didn’t hold much sway right now.
She drew the bag out of the glove box and opened it. Her fingers shook, and the bag almost slipped from her grip. But she forced them to be still and dipped a finger inside, scooping a small amount of coke up with a manicured nail. She lifted the nail to her face and felt her heart surge in anticipation.
This was it.
What some secret part of herself had waited for so patiently for so long—the renewal of a pleasure long denied.
It was wonderful.
And terrible.
Christ, so fucking terrible.
You’re stronger than this.
Her hand froze inches from her face and she stared with desperate longing at the little mound of white powder nestled in the scoop of her nail. Moments ticked by. Mere moments. But they felt like slow increments of eternity. She thought about times she’d been strong. Like when she’d first given this poison up. That was strength. It also took strength to get out of bed every day and face the world in the aftermath of your beloved mother’s unexpected suicide. A hell of a lot of fucking strength was required for that. Maybe more than the amazing amount of strength and determination she’d displayed again and again throughout the course of this long day.
So certainly she was stronger than this bit of powder.
Jessica sighed.
She flicked the scoop of coke out of her fingernail and leaned out of the car to dump the rest on the
ground. Next she dropped the little bag and watched the breeze lift it up and blow it away. She inhaled and exhaled with slow deliberation. Then she got out of the car and breathed deeply of the cool night air. She felt calmer now. And sort of triumphant. But there was still the dilemma of what to do next. Yes, she’d faced down an old demon and won, but her only reward was a few moments of serenity. There’d been no sudden brilliant flashes of inspiration.
Until the cell phone in her pocket chirped.
She pulled it out and looked at the display. The number wasn’t one she recognized, but it wouldn’t be. This was Larry’s phone. She’d taken it from him in the car and had forgotten about it since, in the midst of all the excitement. She stared at the phone until it stopped ringing. Then she flipped it open and punched in a number she did know.
It was answered halfway through the second ring. “Hello?”
Jessica smiled at the sound of the familiar voice.“Daddy. It’s me.”
Her father’s voice softened at once. “Oh, hey, sweetie. What number is this you’re calling from?”
Jessica’s laughter was humorless. “It’s a long story, Daddy. I’m…sort of in trouble.”
“Trouble?” He sounded alarmed. More than that. Alarmed, but ready to fight. “What sort of trouble? Is it serious?”
More of that humorless laughter.“You could say that.”
“Are you in jail?”
“No, Daddy. It’s worse than that. A lot worse and a lot more complicated. I’ve done some things that could send me away forever, if anyone ever found out about them.”
Jessica fidgeted during the long pause from the other end. She loved and adored her father. She couldn’t bear the thought of him ever thinking ill of her. She knew he
was imagining a lot of dreadful possible scenarios. He couldn’t know the truth was far worse than anything he could imagine. She clutched the phone tight and waited with dread in her heart to hear what he would say next.
He cleared his throat. “These things you’ve done…Were they justified?”
Jessica’s eyes welled with tears. She wiped them away and sniffled. “Daddy…I wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t done them.”
The pause this time was shorter. “Just as I thought. Justified. Tell me everything, Jess.” His voice hardened, but still conveyed stunning depths of compassion.“And I do mean everything. Leave nothing out.”
Jessica took a steadying breath and then launched into a condensed version of events.“It started when I went to check out this car I saw on craigslist…”
It took ten minutes.
As promised, she told him everything.
There was another silence from her father’s end after she finished. But this time she wasn’t anxious. The silence was contemplative rather than judgmental, and it lasted less than a minute. He cleared his throat again.“I’ll make some calls. We’ll take care of this. That town’s close to where the Dandridge incident occurred.”
“The dirty bomb?”
A short pause. Her father grunted. “Yes. That. Belated follow-up operations will be necessary due to new information that’s come to light. Don’t you worry about any of it. I’ll have someone pick you up once the operation’s under way.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Dad…” Her heart was beating hard again. She had no business asking this again at a time like this. But the grief welled up in her again and she just couldn’t help it.“Why did Mom do it?”
A sigh from the other end. “Honey, I’d give anything
to know. But I don’t.” There was another contemplative pause, and Jessica knew he was looking back down through the years of life and marriage with his wife, searching his memory for clues. She knew because she’d done the same thing so many times. She heard a tired intake of breath, and he said,“Some mysteries don’t have neat answers. Some never have any answers. That’s just a sad goddamned fact of life.”
Jessica wiped moisture from her eyes. “I know. I love you, Daddy.”
“And I love you, Jess.” He coughed and his tone hardened again. “Back to the matter at hand. I do have one job for you. I hate to ask this of you after all you’ve been through, but it must be done.”
Jessica frowned.“What job?”
“The one you spared, Jess. Take care of him. Now.”
Jessica drew in a startled breath. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What? Daddy, you can’t be serious. He’s not a threat.”
Colonel Sloan’s tone stiffened. “Loose ends are not acceptable. You must do it. I’m hanging up now, dear. Do as I’ve said and lay low until help arrives. Oh, and get that cruiser out of sight.”
The line clicked off.
Jessica moved the phone from her ear and stared at it in silent stupefaction for several moments. She flipped it shut and looked at the house across the street. She thought of the man she’d left trussed up there and wanted to weep. She’d killed many people today, but each of them had presented an immediate threat to her life.
This was different.
This would be an execution.
I can’t do it,
she thought.
I don’t care what he says. I just can’t.
Her heart continued to slam as she stared at the
darkened house. Then something cold rose up inside her and wrapped itself around her heart. The jagged rhythm of her heart slowed to a normal pace, and she shoved the phone back into her pocket.
She checked the .38’s load.
Two rounds left.
Plenty.
She crossed the street at an unhurried pace and slipped back inside the house. She paused inside the doorway, listening to the man’s rapid intake of air through his nose. He sounded congested, as if he was having difficulty breathing through his nose. She stood very still for a moment as she continued to listen to him. Maybe he would die without any extra help from her. She listened and prayed, hoping he would go that way, but the sound went on and on.
At last she sighed and flipped on the lights. The man’s head snapped in her direction and he looked at her through eyes shiny with tears and wide with desperation. But they darkened as he recognized her. The shift was about something more than simple fear.
He knows,
she thought.
I’ve come to kill him, and he knows.
She waited to feel the reflexive pang of guilt she’d expected, but there was nothing, not even the slightest twinge. She felt remarkably calm, in fact. She knew it was connected to the conversation with her father. He had a way of making her feel better about anything. He was a problem solver, and he’d helped her solve a number of her bigger problems over the years. Whenever things got too tough, he was there to steer her in the right direction. And it was
always
the right direction. He was never, ever wrong. Which was why she was able to so easily face what she had to do after getting over the initial shock.
She closed the door behind her and moved through
the foyer into the living room, where she squatted next to the trussed-up man and placed the barrel of the gun against the back of his head. His muffled pleas gave way to a desperate whine. Tears flowed in streams down his flushed face. He blinked rapidly as he looked up at her.
“Close your eyes, William. It’ll be easier that way.”
For me or for him?
But he just kept staring at her, unable to surrender his last glimpse of the world.
Jessica kept her finger off the trigger. She wasn’t quite ready yet. She looked William in the eye and said,“I don’t think this makes me a bad person. I’ve been fighting like hell to stay alive all day. This wasn’t my choice. Being raped wasn’t my choice, either. Yeah, I was raped earlier today. I’ve had a full fucking day, man. It’s been a losing-your-faith-in-the-essential-goodness-of-man kind of day from start to finish. I hope like hell I never see the likes of it again. Thanks to my daddy, there’s a real chance that can happen. I hate to have to do this, William. Maybe you’re an okay guy, even being from this wicked place. You were a friend of Larry’s, and he seemed like an okay guy. But it doesn’t matter much. You’re sort of in the way of the rest of my life.”
She slipped her finger through the trigger guard.
William closed his eyes.
The report of the gun was loud in the enclosed space.
Jessica watched a spreading pool of blood stain the carpet beneath his head for a moment.
Then she got up and went outside to move the cruiser. A cool breeze kicked up and mussed her hair. The kiss of cool air felt good on her skin.
It was a nice night.