—
She’s nice and loose afterward, wearing my shirt and nothing else while sitting on the couch with a bottle of water.
“Halloween? That’s... that’sbrilliant,” she says after I lay it out for her. “Oh, and Grace Village—you know that town goes dark at seven o’clock.”
I didn’t. But now I do, as she explains the ritual.
“Everyone goes lights-out at seven,” she says. “So maybe you could show up right before that. She might open the door for one last person.”
Maybe. I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to shoot someone. Kill someone. I repeat those seven syllables in my head.
Twenty-one million dollars.
Okay. That part was easy. The next part might not be. Gavin and I debated it, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right.
Here goes.
“Listen, one other thing,” I say. “I’m thinking about the police. What they’ll think when they find Lauren...”
“Dead. Fucking dead.”
A little more zeal in her than I expected. But I like the anger. The anger is good. She’s all in.
“Yeah,” I say. “What you said is right, Vicky. How hard will it be for them to figure out that Simon was having an affair with her? Probably not very. He has history with her, even if it goes pretty far back. And he’s going to her swanky downtown condo building for afternoon love sessions? That building has staff, they have security and doormen and—”
“I’m sure it won’t be hard for the police to figure that out,” she says. “That’s what worries me. When they look at Simon, they’ll look at me, his wife.”
“So that’s where this thought comes in,” I say. “If they’re already going to be looking at him, and therefore at you... maybe we could help keep the focus on Simon?”
She sits up, snapping to attention. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying... Maybe there’s a way we can help nudge the police in Simon’s—”
“Are you saying weframeSimon?”
I raise my hands. “I’m just trying to protect you, Vicky,” I say. “That’s all—”
“Hm.” Vicky gets up and starts pacing.
That isn’t a no. Seems like she’s thinking about it, strolling slowly, looking far off, picturing it.
“I know you care about him, but—”
“That was before I knew he was fucking Lauren,” she snaps. “And fuckingmeout of my money.”
I’ll have to keep that reaction in mind when I steal all of Vicky’s money. I better fly somewhere far away.
I let the idea marinate with her. I put on some coffee and drink a cup while Vicky strolls around, mumbling to herself, occasionally shaking her head, still in disbelief at this turn of events. Wavering between anger at Simon, anger at herself for letting it happen, and deciding how far she’s willing to go to correct the situation.
Halfway through the living room for the twentieth time, she stops, pivots, hands on her naked hips, nodding her head. “Let’s do it. Let’s make sure the cops’ eyes never wander past Simon to me. Let’s set that cheating fucker up.” She wags her finger. “And I knowexactlyhow to do it.”
THE DAY AFTERHALLOWEEN
59
Jane
Jane Burke drives back to the Betancourt house at the end of the longest day of her career on the force, memories from high school occupying her thoughts.