Page 30 of Kill For Me Kill For You
‘Imagining your revenge isn’t a crime. I’ve done a lot of thinking. Too much, maybe.You’vedone a lot of thinking. Planning too. Just like I have.’
Wendy took a long drink from her Negroni, put the glass gently back on the table, smacked her lips and said, ‘How far did you get with the subway plan?’
Amanda noticed Wendy had ignored the implied question and had fired back one of her own. She reminded herself not to pressure Wendy – she had to be patient. But she still had to lead the way. She had to let Wendy know that she trusted her enough to tell her the truth.
‘I was there, on the subway car, the gun in my pocket. I was all set to do it and the son of a bitch must’ve sensed me or something. I don’t know. He looked up, right at me and spoke. After he’d drawn attention to me, I couldn’t do it. People were looking. They would’ve seen me pull the trigger. I would’ve been caught right away. So I stopped. He called for the cops – they arrested me. It was just luck that I managed to hide the gun otherwise my ass would be in jail right now, instead of court-ordered counseling and probation.’
Wendy sat forward, said, ‘I had no idea you’d gone that far.’
‘I would’ve gone a lot farther if he hadn’t noticed me first,’ said Amanda.
Wendy shook her head, took half the cocktail down in one swallow. She looked to the side for a moment, thinking.
‘Fuck, I’ve imagined myself in that position. Tell me, hypothetically, if he hadn’t seen you, would you really have pulled that trigger?’ asked Wendy.
Amanda had asked herself that same question, over and over again, late at night, lying awake in her bed with Jess’s toy, Sparkles, next to her. She always had the same answer. Found a strange comfort in that knowledge.
‘Yes,’ she said.
Wendy nodded. ‘I believe you.’
‘It’s a weird thing – justice. It feels personal, you know? Like it’s something I should have as a right. When Jess was murdered, it . . . it felt like my whole world just turned upside down. Jess shouldn’t have died. Luis shouldn’t have died. You go through your entire life thinking about what’s going to happen next – when are we going to get a bigger apartment? What’s Jess going to be like when she’s older? Will she be popular in school? God, I’d even thought about how I would feel watching her get ready on her wedding day . . . and then everything is justgone. It’s not right. And when the man who killed your daughter gets away with it – that’s not righteither. . .’
Wendy nodded as Amanda continued.
‘None of this was supposed to happen – the world is so far off kilter that the only thing I can think about is putting it back on track. Setting things straight. None of this will bring back Jess or Luis, I know that. But it might stop the fucking world from spinning out of control.’
‘I know how you feel,’ said Wendy. ‘When I told you it gets easier – I lied. I feel exactly the same way as I did the day they found Rebecca’s body. Grieving is a process, right? That’s what Matt and all the rest of the counselors tell you. But what they don’t tell you is that you can’t start the process when your kid’s murderer is still walking around a free man. At least I can’t.’
Wendy’s words seemed to echo somewhere deep inside Amanda’s chest. She didn’t just hear Wendy, she felt her.
‘Same for me,’ said Amanda. ‘I know the grief is there. It’s waiting. Getting bigger every day, but it won’t come to me. I can’t cry over Jess any more. I can’t process it until things are put right. Every day that goes by, I feel worse.’
‘It doesn’t have to be this way – we could just walk up to these fuckers and bam! Put two in their heads in the middle of Fifth Avenue. Sometimes I think that’s what I should do,’ said Wendy.
‘I’ve thought the same. But then I’d go to jail. Crone’s family would get the justice denied to my daughter. I’d be paying for that murder all my life. I don’t see how that’s fair.’
Wendy nodded, said, ‘That’snotfair.’
‘What if . . .’ said Amanda, then she paused, swallowed, pushed a fresh cigarette from the pack. She was working up the courage, taking her time. The silence became uncomfortable, and Amanda told herself to just spit it out. ‘What if we helped each other? What if I helped you kill Quinn? And then you helped me kill Crone?’
Wendy let that question hang in the night air for a time, before she grabbed hold of it.
‘If something happened to Quinn, with my public vendetta against him, the cops would be all over me in a heartbeat, unless . . .’ said Wendy, pausing to ignite her Zippo and offering it to Amanda.
‘Unless what?’ asked Amanda, urging her on as she brought the cigarette to the flame and inhaled.
‘Unless I wasn’t the one who killed him. And I had a cast-iron alibi,’ said Wendy.
Amanda blew out smoke. This was what had been in her mind for days – the two of them working together, but not quite like this. Amanda had intended to share the burden – put their minds together. This was a plan she hadn’t anticipated.
‘Do you ever watch old movies?’ asked Wendy.
‘Sure, sometimes,’ said Amanda. ‘What, like black-and-white movies? Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn?’
‘I was thinking about Hitchcock movies.Strangers on a Train?’ said Wendy.
‘Yes, I saw it. A long time ago,’ said Amanda.
