Page 108

“And then one night, I didn’t feel like bothering with the room. We just got in my car, parked somewhere quiet, made the necessary financial arrangements. And as it was happening, me with the front seat reclined, her kneeling in the wheel well, giving a blow job that wasn’t worth the money, I thought,It would be so easy to kill her right now.”
I shiver, repulsed. Once again, I can’t believe that this man was my husband, that most of my nights were spent sleeping by his side, that I loved him with every fiber of my being. Even worse, I can’t get over how completely he had fooled me. During our time together, I never suspected—not once—he was a fraction this cruel and depraved.
“Did you?” I say, not wanting an answer but needing one all the same.
“No,” Len says. “It was too risky. But I knew it was going to happen someday.”
“Why here?”
“Why not here? It’s quiet, secluded. Plus, I could rent a car, drive here for a weekend, come back, and pretend I was in LA. You never suspected a thing.”
“I found out eventually,” I say.
“Not until it was too late for Megan, Toni, and Sue Ellen.”
I feel a pain in my gut, as sharp and twisting as if I’d taken the knife on the bed next to me and shoved it into my side.
“Tell me where you left their bodies.”
“To atone for my sins?”
I shake my head and take another sip of bourbon. “To atone for mine.”
“I see,” Len says. “Then what? And don’t pretend you haven’t thought it through. I know exactly what you plan on doing. Once you learn where those bodies are, you’re going to kill me all over again.”
When he was alive, I found it uncanny how well Len could read my thoughts. Sometimes it felt like he knew my every mood, whim, and need, which I absolutely loved. What a pleasure it was to have my spouse know me so well. In hindsight, it was more curse than blessing. I suspect it’s how Len was able to hide his true nature from me for so long. I’m certain it’s how he knows exactly what I have planned now.
“Yes,” I say, seeing no point in lying. He wouldn’t believe me if I did. “That’s what I intend to do.”
“And what if I refuse?”
I set the glass on the nightstand, next to the lamp that continues to flicker. It’s like a strobe light, plunging the room into microbursts of darkness and light as my hand once again moves toward the knife. “Then I’ll kill you anyway.”
“I don’t think you want that much blood on your hands, Cee,” Len says, pronouncing the nickname with an exaggerated hiss. “I know from experience you won’t hesitate to kill me. But it’s your other victim that should give you pause.”
“What other victim?”
“Katherine, of course.”
He doesn’t need to say anything else. I now understand exactly what he means.
If I killed him, I’d also be killing Katherine Royce.
Riding on the coattails of that revelation is another bit of clarity. One that’s more hopeful, if no less complicated.
“She’s still there,” I say.
Len doesn’t get a chance to respond. He’s blocked by another screaming wind outside.
Coming closer.
Swooping in.
It rams against the house and everything shakes, me included. I reach for the nightstand to steady myself. In the hallway, something falls to the floor and shatters.
The nightstand lamp stops flickering long enough for me to see the rattling bourbon glass, Len straining against the ropes, the smug grin on his face.
Then the lamp, the room, and the entire lake house go completely dark.