Page 115 of I Will Ruin You

“Bees? Like bumblebees?”

“No, the letter. Two of them. Boston something.”

“Boston Bruins?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. Tell me what happened after he came into the room.”

“They went out into the hall together to talk. I thought maybe Mr. Boyle would come back, but after a few minutes when he didn’t we figured the meeting was over, like, it was a funny way to end it, just walking out. And so I was going out to my car and Mr. Willow was talking or arguing with Mr. Boyle and this man and then the other man... he...”

Marta wanted to be patient, to help this woman get her story out her own way, but she needed to know things. Right now.

“Mrs. Kanin, what did the man do?”

“He pointed the gun at Mr. Willow and he shot him. Just like that. Like it was nothing. And Mr. Willow fell and, oh my God, I can’t believe what is happening here. First that boy who was going to blow up the school, and now—”

“What happened then? After Mr. Willow was shot.”

“They got in the truck.”

“This man and Mr. Boyle?”

“That’s right.”

“They just got in the truck and drove off? Who was driving?”

“Mr. Boyle, I think. The other man, he was pointing his gun at him.”

“Describe the truck.”

“It... it was a pickup truck.”

“Color?”

“Uh, white, I think. But I guess it could have been gray. But I think it was white. And it had rust on it.”

“Was there a cover on the back?”

“A what?”

“Was there a cover on the bed part of the pickup? Or was it open, uncovered?”

“The last thing. There was no cover.”

“Did you notice a license plate?”

The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine, you did good,” Marta said, and placed her hand briefly on the woman’s arm. “You stay right here, okay? Because we’re going to need to talk to you some more.”

Marta ran back to the closest police car and got on the radio to call in descriptions of the car, Herb Willow’s shooter, and last but not least, her brother-in-law.

Fifty-Three

Lucy went back up to the motel room, glancing back only once to see Stuart and his so-called “new assistant” drive out of the parking lot in Stuart’s pickup. Once she was in the room, she closed the door behind her, leaned up against it, and let out a long sigh of relief.

There were ways it could have gone wrong. Stuart might have wanted to open up the bag before they left, but as far as she knew, he didn’t have a key to the small lock that joined the zippers together. And when he lifted it into the back of the truck, he hadn’t noticed that it weighed any different. She’d tried to get it as close as possible.