Speaking of, I’ve studied those. People say certain things during a real emergency and different kinds of things when they’re faking it and covering up a crime. I’ve got this down. All of my worry and fear will be focused on Steven. I won’t establish an alibi or theorize about what probably happened. I’ll be confused and cooperative and so scared for him. I’ll do exactly what the operator tells me, but I’ll frantically beg for more help for him.
But I hope to avoid all that entirely. Best to keep it as simple as possible.
I pack the used boots and jacket I just bought, along with a hat and mittens. I choose two changes of clothes, flannel pajamas, and a nearly transparent black nightgown in case I need to distract him or just screw him to sleep. Then I add a few more things to my duffel bag: latex gloves, my pocketknife, duct tape, zip ties, a small flashlight, and a collapsible shovel I bought along with the hunting gear. He’ll bring the gun, which is very thoughtful of him.
My flowery dress disguise won’t cut it today, so I wear skinny jeans and a sweater and pull on half boots with a heel so he can make fun of me for being impractical.
I put out an extra-large bowl of water for my cat and enough dry food to last for two days. I’m just sitting down to play with her when I realize there’s a bigger problem: if I need to go on the run, my cat will be trapped here alone. I don’t know if I’d feel worried or guilty per se, but I definitely wouldn’t like thinking about it. Shit.
I briefly consider smuggling her along on the hunting trip in my duffel bag. She might be quiet long enough to get an hour out of town, but Steven is so passionate in his hatred he could just leave us on the side of the road in retaliation. He might even decide to drive her all the way to the cabin and shoot her. I’d immediately kill him, of course, but that wouldn’t bring my cat back.
What to do?
I close my eyes and ponder the options. If things go badly and I do have to disappear, there will be a good reason. I’ll be under suspicion and the cops will come to the apartment regardless. So, at worst she’d be here for a week or so. Even if I jump the gun and run before the cops are looking for me, surely Luke will drop by to try to contact me. He would hear the cat meowing.
Decision made, I get up and put out another, larger bowl of dry food and a cake pan full of water. That should keep her going long enough to be discovered. I suppose if I were less selfish I’d leave a window open so she can escape, but I don’t want to take the chance of losing her. She’s mine, and I’ll need entertainment while I lie low and play the worried girlfriend.
When I return to the couch, my cat is staring at her favorite feather toy, waiting for me to pick up the stick it hangs from and make it move. She gives me a croaky meow of impatience and her eyes flash silver when she turns in my direction. I wonder if the couch will be intact when I return. It’s the first thing I’d destroy if I were her.
I play with her for fifteen minutes, admiring the vicious athleticism of her twisting, stretching body. I wish I could move like that. Wish I could suddenly expose curved claws above the little pink pads of my fingers. What a gift.
She eventually tires of me and slinks away to eat her breakfast and give herself a bath.
“Bye, cat,” I say as she deserts me.
I still have fifteen minutes to waste. I get out the letter for an extra jolt of inspiration. It works.
CHAPTER 38
Jane, it’s me. I’m so, so sorry.
I love you so much. You and my mom are the only people I don’t want to leave, but I can’t do this anymore.
Steven is my soul mate, and despite all our problems, I don’t know how to do this without him. We were going to have a life, a house, a family. Now I have nothing.
Maybe that’s what I deserve. He says I have nothing because I am nothing. It feels like he’s right. It feels like I’ve spent my whole life falling down, and I’m too broken to get back up and try anymore. I’m afraid to do it without someone to love.
Please don’t be mad at me, Jane. I’m so tired. I haven’t stopped crying all week. I just want to stop crying. I know you won’t understand that. You were always the strong one. The big sister I never had and always needed.
Please be strong for me now.
Thank you for letting me into your life. I should have listened to you about so many things.
I love you bunches, Jane. I love you always. Please forgive me.
Yours forever and ever,
Meg
CHAPTER 39
“Don’t you want to come inside and show off your fancy boots?” Steven asks with a snide smile.
I slide lower in my seat in case anyone else pulls up on this side of the little general store. “I’m supposed to be a secret. You didn’t tell anyone I was coming, right?”
“No.”
“So what if the store owner knows your friend and tells him you brought a girl up here? He might tell your dad.”
“Good point. I’ll grab a few groceries and be right back.”
“Get some ice cream!” I call out as he closes the door.
He gives me a disappointed look and shakes his head. Ice cream is only for girls who are a size four, I guess. I don’t deserve it. The back of the truck is already full of beer and snacks, but Steven wants to grab bacon and eggs and some hot dogs for dinner. We’re going to cook them over a fire. He was irritated when I called it a weenie roast, so I’ve said it at least three more times.
“Weenie roast,” I say again, and giggle.
Despite the three hours on the road, I haven’t quite decided how to kill him yet. There’s no perfect option to keep me out of harm’s way, and my brain is rebelling at the idea of self-sacrifice. It won’t settle on a plan.
Or maybe I secretly have morals! But, no, that doesn’t feel right. I want him dead.
The option that would cause the least suspicion would be burying him in the woods and then pretending I was never here. I’d get the most cover with this one. Steven would tragically disappear on a hunting trip, and the police would likely barely question me, if they got around to it at all. All my playacting would be for Steven’s family, and it wouldn’t be difficult to fool them.
But there are a couple of big problems with that plan. First, I’d have to find a way home without leaving a trail of evidence. Second, there’s really no way for me to guarantee that no one has noticed me or will notice me. If the cops find out I lied about being here, I’d be screwed.
Still, it’s my favorite option at this point, because I’m mostly out of the equation.
Another fairly good alternative is to kill and bury Steven in the woods, then call the sheriff tomorrow night when Steven doesn’t return to the cabin. Hunters and hikers disappear all the time, and it’s forecast to start snowing on Sunday. They’d never find his body in these thousands of acres of woods.
This plan would involve a lot of acting on my part, and my audience would be seasoned professionals. A challenge, but I think I’m up to it. I’ve been acting my whole life.
The identity I’ve created is solid enough for a quick background check. I’ll just look like a girl who keeps to herself and has never had a brush with the law.
I don’t think they’d dig deeper. For the first week or so, he’d only be a missing person, presumed lost in the woods, so they wouldn’t focus on me. They’d be too busy searching for a man who could still be rescued.
And, really, I’m a woman he started dating three weeks ago. We’re not married, I wouldn’t benefit in any way from his death, and a motive more complicated than that would take a lot of imagination to conjure.
It’s a decent plan.
The last option for killing Steven is my least favorite, but it might come down to opportunity. He teaches me to hunt and there’s a terrible accident. These things happen when there are guns around. This scenario puts me in the spotlight, of course, but again, we’ve only been dating a few weeks; why in the world would I murder him?