Page 9 of Kill For Me Kill For You
He sighed, said, ‘I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but they iced Jess’s case this week.’
‘Iced? Does that mean closed?’
‘Pretty much. There are no alternative suspects, and no new evidence against Crone. His lawyers have been leaning on the commissioner, who leaned on my captain who told me to bury it. Amanda, he’s not going to pay for this crime. And he’s too smart to take a risk with all this heat on him. The only thing we can do is let it go.’
‘Let it go? He murdered my daughter!’
‘And maybe others too, but he won’t see a day in prison for any of it. You have to come to terms with that.’
‘You know that girl he’s with tonight is probably under-age, and she’s working as an escort.’
‘We know, and vice knows. There’s a bigger operation in the background. They want to save hundreds of young girls and destroy the whole operation. They’re not going to blow it to book Crone for soliciting so a friendly judge can give him a smack on the wrist, even if it is his third time in court. Gohome.’
Amanda had agreed to leave that night, and not come back. She also agreed to take some time out of the city on a vacation. Clear her head. That’s when she bought a gun on the dark web and drove upstate to the woods to learn how to use it.
If the law wasn’t going to make Crone pay, Amanda had only one choice. It was all clear in her mind. She was going to kill him. Or herself. Better that he went first. The subway shooting had been her best plan. And it had failed.
Now, standing on the sidewalk in Centre Street, fresh from her latest court hearing, Amanda hung her head. She realized she couldn’t beat the system. Couldn’t get close enough to kill the man who’d taken her child.
She walked in the cold for hours, feeling the bite of the wind on her cheeks. She let herself wander back in the general direction of home. In the 7-Eleven across the street from her building she bought a bottle of vodka, then refilled her prescription for sleeping pills from the CVS beside it. The sun had gone down, and afternoon had passed into evening. The day would soon end.
Amanda just wanted the pain to stop.
She emptied her mailbox in the lobby of her building, more out of habit than anything else. Tucked the pile of mail under her arms and went upstairs to her empty apartment. She dropped the mail on the table, filled a glass – half vodka, half Pepsi, and poured out the whole bottle of sleeping pills on the counter. She took two in her mouth, washed them down. If she was going to take the whole bottle, she would need to swallow more than two at a time. Otherwise her throat would begin to close. Amanda had never been good at swallowing pills. If she still had the gun, she wouldn’t have this problem.
She glanced idly at the mail. On top of the stack was an envelope with the name of a law firm stamped on the outside. If her landlord was trying to evict her, he wouldn’t need to take her to court. If she could manage the pills she would be leaving the apartment tomorrow wearing a body bag.
She ripped the envelope open, read the letter.
It wasn’t from her landlord.
The letter fell from her fingers, swooped and tumbled through the air to land at her feet. She stomped on it, once, returned to the counter and began scooping up the pills in her palm and pouring them back into the bottle.
Taking her drink with her, she then sat down at her laptop. First thing she saw was an email telling her there was a new article on Crone. Amanda had set up an alert on his name so she could keep up to date with police investigations. She clicked on the link: a press report on her case today detailing her guilty plea. She shook her head, then logged into her bank account.
Four hundred and twelve dollars.
That was all she had left. Luis hadn’t had life insurance.
Amanda had nothing left now. No family. No justice. No job. She just needed a little more time.
Two things were keeping her alive.
She didn’t want another mother to go through what she was going through. No family should be ripped apart by this evil ever again. The second thing keeping her breathing was hate. New and refuelled by the letter from Wallace Crone’s lawyers.
He was suing Amanda for harassment. His lawyers wanted five hundred thousand dollars in damages. Suingher. For the damage and emotional traumashehad causedhim. Her heart wanted to explode. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. She had lost the ability to cry. It was all tied up inside. Instead of tears, she let out a barking laugh. If it wasn’t so sick, it would be funny.
But it wasn’t funny. There was no way Amanda would let him take any more.
She got up and went to Jess’s bedroom. It was exactly as it had been on that last night, with Luis reading the story to them both. Amanda took hold of Sparkles, and lay down on the bed.
When Luis’s parents had buried Jess and Luis, they hadn’t known to put Sparkles in Jess’s coffin, and for a few days after she’d learned this, Amanda was so sick with grief that she threw up almost constantly. The thought of her murdered child, unable to rest even in death without her toy.
Where’s Sparkles?
Where’s Sparkles?
She took hold of Sparkles now, held it tightly. There was a smell on the toy that reminded her of Jess. It reminded her of happier times, but even her memories of great days with her little girl were now sharp with loss. And she couldn’t take it any more.
