Page 26 of Pretty Psychos
"Of course there's no shame in it," Forrest said. "Not everyone has to learn to kill people." He gave me a soft look that made my heart race a little faster.
"I'm not ruling it out completely," I said. "I feel like this is one of those one-day-at-a-time things. What about you guys?" I asked. "When did you first, you know, kill someone?"
Forrest gazed out at the waves. "For me, it was the second time I had to let someone walk that shouldn't have walked. He'd done things to his stepdaughter and her friends. They were too scared to speak out against him. Her mother caught him, but it was her word against his. The jury didn't believe her."
"So you killed him?" I said.
"I followed him first," Forrest replied. "Hunted him. Watched him. Got evidence with my own eyes, and a camera.ThenI killed him. Sent the evidence to the police so they'd know exactly what was going on."
"How did you kill him?" I couldn't help asking.
"He had a peanut allergy," Forrest said. "I slipped some into his drink. Unfortunately for him, I also kept a hold of his EpiPen. Held it in my hands while his face swelled. Then he died. His family found him three days later when they came back from visiting the stepdaughter's grandmother. I made sure they had alibis."
"It sounds like you planned that carefully," I said, a little scared but mostly impressed.
"What about you?" I turned to Leif.
Leif rubbed his chin with his thumb and finger. "My best friend in high school had a brother who was disabled. He couldn't do much for himself. He had this carer who was supposed to help him do things for him. Instead, he started to do thingstohim. We came home from school one day and found him."
His eyes glazed, thinking back. His expression, somewhere between sadness and anger. Lips pressed together, teeth gritted like he might grab a knife and stab someone right now.
"My friend confronted him," Leif continued. "I confronted him too. When he was standing at the top of the stairs. With my hand. He fell all the way down and broke his neck. They ruled it an accident."
The tension in his jaw lessened. He smiled.
"I was conflicted for a while. I pushed him and he died. But then, Jerry, my friend's brother, he seemed better after that. Happier. Things were happening to him he couldn't prevent. I put a stop to that. I felt vindicated. That one thing made his life better. Him and anyone else that asshole was supposed to be caring for."
"Sounds like he got what he deserved," I said.
"Without question," Leif agreed.
I turned to Woody. "What about you?" I asked. "When did you first kill someone?"
"Would you believe the senator was the first?" he asked.
I snorted. "No. You knew what you were doing before we got there."
"Fine."He dragged the word out. "I was at work one day, repairing some damage to one of the lines. I overheard some people talking. They were stealing from a kids' cancer charity.I mean, who does shit like that? Stealing from sick kids. It was fucked up. You know?"
"That's horrible," I said. Sometimes it was difficult to have faith in humanity, knowing there were people like that out there.
"Anyway, they were laughing about it and saying they'd stolen millions, not just from that charity, but from a few others. One of them left." He scooped up a handful of sand and let it slowly slip through his fingers.
"I followed the other one, trying to get a look at him and see who he was so I could tell the cops. He realized I was following him, stopped and pulled a gun. I acted without thinking, threw myself at him and pushed him off the platform right in front of the morning train to the Bronx. They found bits of him spread around everywhere. Once they finally managed to identify him, they found out what he'd done, arrested the other prick, and returned some of the money to the charities. They'd spent a fuck ton of it; fancy homes and cars, crap like that. There was a whole organization of them. The rest of them disappeared, went underground. They probably popped up somewhere and started all over again."
He curled his fingers around the sand that was left in his hand before opening it again and letting it drop back to the beach. "That pissed me off, knowing they got away with it. I started looking for people like that, and people who let them walk."
"You thought Forrest was one of them?" I asked.
"For a while I did," Woody said. "But one time we both turned up in the same place. Got to talking. Found out we were both on the same side. He introduced me to Leif, and here we are. That's the origin story of the three musketeers. Or are we the three muppets?"
"The three badasses?" Leif said. "Four badasses now." He dipped his head toward me.
"No one else knows the things you do?" I directed the question at all of them.
"I've had some police contacts here and there," Forrest said. "And a few who give us information without asking any questions. It's a challenge, knowing who to trust. It's too easy for someone to betray us to someone else who pays better."
"Who would dare to pay better than the great Judge Forrest Cross?" Leif teased.
