Page 145 of One of Us Is Guilty

We were turning.

No idea how long we’d been on the road.

One thing was for certain, we were no longer on the highway. The suspension now had to work hard, and in the trunk every bump sent a fresh shot of pain through my head. We were on a dirt road, somewhere.

The end was close now.

I’d been in tight spots before.

But not like this.

Not with so many unanswered questions. I had a pretty good idea who had grabbed me off the street, though. I’d pissed off a very dangerous family. My ability to get myself into trouble was kind of a gift. Not that Christine saw it that way.

I thought of her, and my daughter, Amy. How would they reactwhen they were told I was missing? Judging by the professional approach of the two guys up front in this car, and it was always two guys in a street grab like this, my body would probably never be found.

It was strange, but right then, that was the thing that pissed me off the most.

My family and my friends not being able to grieve properly. Not knowing where I was, but pretty sure that I was dead. I had known loss and pain, and I’d seen the damage it could do to others – their lives torn to pieces. I didn’t want that. I definitely didn’t want that for my daughter.

I didn’t care about myself. Everybody has to go sometime.

And one grave is as cold as the next.

It was the people I would leave behind.

That’s what hurt.

I should have seen this coming sooner.

Sometimes, we are so blinded by what’s right in front of us that we don’t see the real danger.

The car slowed.

My weight shifted as it turned.

I felt the vehicle roll over rougher ground. A series of bumps in the earth, rocks maybe, threw me around in the trunk.

I knew then the two men up front were professionals.

This gave me a chance.

Amateurs don’t think things through. They can try, but killing somebody and hiding their body is one of those few tasks where you can only really learn on the job. There’s no manual, and the guys who do it and get caught can’t really learn from their mistakes.

After a few minutes of getting thrown around, the car stopped.

The engine died.

Two doors opened.

I felt the weight shifting in the front suspension as two men got out.

Two doors closed.

No footsteps.

We were on dirt or grassland.

Not hard asphalt.