Page 29 of Kill For Me Kill For You
‘What was that?’
‘If I wasn’t going to find something to take him off the street, the next best thing was to find a way to take him out.’
Wendy said nothing. She took a moment to appraise Amanda. And she felt Wendy’s gaze as she sipped the last remnants of the cocktail from her glass.
‘Take him out? You mean . . .’
Amanda nodded.
‘You serious about that?’ asked Wendy.
‘I had a plan. I was going to do it on a crowded subway.’
‘Jesus, youareserious,’ said Wendy, leaning forward.
Amanda nodded and lit a cigarette. She used the time to study Wendy who sat, composed, engaged. Amanda had to judge this very carefully. Take it slowly.
‘This is just between us, right?’ asked Amanda.
Wendy’s eyebrows flicked upwards, just for a second, then settled back down. She was either nervous or intrigued by what direction the conversation might take.
‘Absolutely,’ said Wendy.
‘Like, just between us, have you ever thought about it?’ asked Amanda.
Wendy took a drag on her cigarette, absently tapped the butt with her thumb, sending a cascade of ash onto the brick-paved floor. Her eyes roamed the sky, then shot back to Amanda as she spoke.
‘Do you mean have I ever thought about killing the man who raped and murdered my daughter?’ said Wendy flatly.
At first Amanda didn’t know how to respond. Wendy’s tone was difficult to read.
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,’ said Amanda.
Wendy surveyed the skyline again, taking a deep breath and hooking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. The lights from the windows of the building opposite were reflected in those brown eyes. It reminded Amanda of Jess. She would take her to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Plaza. All those beautiful lights dancing in her wide eyes. Amanda took another drag on her smoke and admired the view. Black monolith buildings towered against a brushstroke of rose-colored clouds. The silence grew while they smoked their cigarettes and Wendy rolled that question around in her head.
Then Wendy’s smile fell away as she focused her attention on Amanda.
‘You saw my office that night you spent in my apartment. I’d asked you not to go in there,’ said Wendy.
It was a statement. Not a question. If she denied it, she would be chipping away at the very layers of trust she was trying so hard to build.
‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t remember which door was the bathroom. I just stumbled in and I couldn’t resist taking a look. I apologize for that, but it’s okay, I’m not going to tell anyone what I saw in there,’ said Amanda.
‘And what did you see?’ asked Wendy. There was a new sharpness in her tone.
Amanda knew she had to be careful; this was all so finely balanced. Either she would make a friend of Wendy for life, or Wendy would storm off and never speak to her again. Either was possible. Amanda decided she would not regret this if she just told the truth.
‘At first I wasn’t sure,’ said Amanda, ‘but when I saw the cork board it made sense. It fit with what you’d told me the night before. Remember? You’d told me about your daughter. And Quinn. And in the group session you said some of us can’t forgive the people who killed our children. That’sexactlyhow I feel. And I knew then what I was looking at. The map, the photos, the articles – you’ve been watching Quinn. Maybe you’ve been planning how to kill him?’
Wendy said nothing. Her eyes locked on Amanda’s. And they stayed that way for a time.
The waiter brought their drinks over, and both women thanked him. A slice of orange sat atop the Negronis. Amanda fished it out from her drink, wrapped it in her napkin and dropped it in the ashtray. Even the smell of the fruit made her throat tighten. It brought images and smells of Luis and his breakfast oranges. It was a little stab of grief that she wasn’t expecting. Mourning is sometimes a dull ache that won’t leave, and other times it’s like pricking your finger on a needle hidden in a shopping bag. Amanda forced herself to take a sip. All the while, Wendy regarded her inquisitively – carefully weighing her next words.
‘We’re just talking here, right?’ asked Wendy.
Amanda nodded.
‘I’ve thought about killing Quinn. It’s just a thought, right? A revenge fantasy. That’s not a crime,’ said Wendy.
