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  I left the house a little after 10:00 am and was showered and pulling out of the YMCA’s parking lot at about noon. I turned my Jeep onto Route 688 and quickly realized how much I wished I was in my Mercedes, how much more enjoyable the ride would have been wrapped in the luxury and comfort my Liberty just couldn’t hold a candle to. It was for good reason, though; The Mercedes belonged to Jackson, and although Jackson was always there, that day I was only planning on being Dan.

  I ended up going to see the Rob Zombie film that Alex had planned on seeing the night that I killed her, and the same one that I had already told the Sanderson’s I had seen. I would worry about that later. The film was everything you’d expect from Mr. Zombie: enough blood and gore to fill four normal horror films together, but a surprisingly deep and emotional story line. I honestly enjoyed it. The blood didn’t bother me.

  It was almost five o’clock when I got in my Jeep and started back towards Jacob’s Bluff, and as I traveled down the solitary road with gory and blood-smeared images still fresh on my mind, I thought back to my Jackson novel, and about Jenna. With my violence meter still reading high from the movie, and an excited and freshly inspired writer’s mind going to work, I started thinking about different endings. The ending would be the same; the who and the why, of course. But I started playing around with different how’s. My first two kills had been successful, but a little boring. Alex had been more exciting than Heather, but there was still a great deal of room for improvement. Jackson appreciated creativity, after all.

  I zoned out, paying no attention to the road as my thoughts bounced around. It was one of those trips where you pull into your destination and park and then go "Shit, I don’t remember driving here," and then laugh even though you know that’s a scary fucking thought.

  I was four or five miles away from the Sanderson Homestead and had just had a pretty decent image and idea pop into my head for how it would end--I ended up going with it--when my cell phone rang.

  I recognized the number, it was Ralph and Minnie’s landline, which probably meant Minnie was calling to ask me if could stop at the store to replenish her stock of snack cakes. I would, of course, but Minnie’s funk was starting to annoy me.

  "Hello?" I answered.

  Minnie’s voice was loud, chipper, and shockingly happy. Completely unexpected. "Dan? Oh good, I got a hold of you! Dan, are you going to be home for dinner? It should be ready here in the next thirty minutes or so. I made lasagna with bread sticks."

  Minnie was happy and had made dinner. Something must have happened. I needed an explanation.

  "I’m actually only a few minutes away, so yes I’ll be there."

  "Oh good, I was hoping you’d be able to join us. I know I haven’t cooked a good meal in a while, I wanted you to get it hot, not as some leftover."

  Us. Join us.

  Ralph must have been home as well, and that was equally as interesting. I said goodbye to Minnie and hung up, wondering the rest of the trip what had happened to change everything so rapidly.

  Turns out it wasn’t what had changed everything, but who.

  Chapter 41

  I pulled into the driveway and the first thing I noticed was Ralph’s Oldsmobile--a sight unseen for some time at any hours of the day involving daylight--parked in its usual spot on the side of the house. I pulled in next to it and got out, stretching my legs and looking around. Darkness was starting to set in and the air was chilled. It was curiosity, not the weather, however, that made me rush inside.

  I took the steps up to the front door two at a time and made myself slow down just as I reached for the door knob so that I wouldn’t barge in like a rhino. I let myself in, kicking off my shoes at the front door and stood in the foyer area, ears at attention.

  There was laughter coming from the kitchen. I recognized Ralph and Minnie’s voices and started towards the sounds. I stopped halfway there when I heard a voice I didn’t recognize; A deep, thunderous voice, one that sounded like it should be speaking down from the heavens instead of from the kitchen of the Sanderson Homestead. It said a few words and then Ralph laughed again, his high-pitched squeal resonating through the hall for the first time in days. I heard the sound of a chair being scooted across the floor and then Minnie saying, "So what does everybody want to drink? Lasagna should be done."

  I walked into the doorway as Ralph, looking bright eyed and refreshed, said, "Coffee for me, hun." Then turning to the newcomer who was sitting to his right--in what was usually my chair--he asked, "Eddie, what’ll it be? We’ve got beer, tea, water, uhh… milk?"

  The man sitting in my chair--Eddie, apparently--looked to quite possibly be one of the largest people I had ever seen in my life. Sitting down in his chair, he was a good three heads taller than Ralph, and his shoulders looked to be nearly as wide as the refrigerator behind him. In Jacob’s Bluff I had grown accustomed to being one of the most muscular and in-shape people around, but this guy, this beast, looked like he could use me for Shot Put. He was young, older than me, but still young. Late thirties maybe. And he wore a suit that looked like it must have used the fabric from three normal people’s suits. His closely cropped hair made me think immediately that he must have served in one of the Armed Forces, perhaps the Marines.

  "You know, Minnie, I think I’ll have coffee as well. Might be a long night for me once I get back to the hotel. A lot of files to go over. You boys don’t mess around with your documentation up here. "

  Ralph’s look of cheeriness died just a little as he digested the words Eddie had said, but then he saw me in the door way and perked right back up.

  "Dan, my boy! I’m so glad you made it back in time. Minnie’s lasagna is famous you know?"

  I’d had Minnie’s lasagna before, and yes, it was fame worthy. But I wasn’t concerned about lasagna then, I was more concerned about why Ralph, who had been zombie-like and mostly non-present for the past week or two was suddenly and with out any explanation back to his own slap-happy self (Cheering Minnie right back up in the process. Those two were connected, there’s no denying that). Even more so than that, I was concerned as to just who the Mack truck at the kitchen table was.

  I flashed a big smile Ralph’s way, and then one to Minnie, who had just taken a steaming pan of lasagna out of the oven and slid in a pan of breadsticks in its place.

  "Those’ll be done in ten minutes," she said, seeing me for the first time and returning my smile.

  "I’m glad I made it back, too," I said. "Looks like you guys are having party, hate to miss that." I then looked to Eddie.

  Ralph picked right up on cue. "Oh, Dan, I’ve got somebody I’d like you to meet. This is Special Agent Eddie Collins, FBI, Oklahoma City Division."

  The words flew though the air and stuck me in the neck like an air-dart; a silent sting. Special Agent Collins rose up from his chair--he just kept rising!--and then stepped around the table, hand outstretched and reaching in my direction. I reached out--up, sort of--and let his bear-like paw ensnare my suddenly tiny hand. He has to be at least 6’8", I thought as he said, "Dan, nice to meet you, sir." He then put out his other paw and squeezed my shoulder gently. "Ralph here has told me all about you." The combination of the shoulder squeeze and just something about the way he said it, I took it to mean that Ralph had told the Special Agent my past, which I understood and didn’t disapprove of.

  "Agent Collins, is it? Nice to meet you, too." I was about to ask the man "To what do we owe the pleasure?" when Ralph, who was hardly able to hide his glee exclaimed, "Boy we caught a break here, Danny boy! Agent Collins is here to help with the two murder investigations. Apparently Herb’s got a few more connections than I thought he did. Anyway, somebody owed somebody a favor and well… here he is." He said this last part with his hands palms up, pointing to Agent Collins like he was an item up for bid on The Price is Right.

  Agent Collins laughed then and turned back to Ralph. "Oh come on, Ralph, it’s not as crooked as it sounds. The FBI is glad to help. Murder is serious, and two o
f them in a row… that’s bad stuff. We need to put a stop to this. Even if means I drew the short stick and got sent out to this little village."

  We all laughed together then and I understood what had happened. The arrival of Special Agent Collins aka Hulk had rejuvenated Ralph. Whether because of the prospect of finally making some much needed progress that the local police couldn’t seem to buy a piece of, or whether simply because he now felt like the pressure had been lifted off of him, his load lightened and slung on the shoulders of a much more capable--and much larger--ox, Ralph had awoken from his trance, his fog lifted, and he was back to being good ole’ Ralph. I was glad, too; just as much for Minnie as I was Ralph. It had been just as hard, if not harder on her during that time. It was the mental equivalent of suffering a temporary divorce. She now had her husband back, and she was celebrating by cooking us all a great meal.

  Minnie, who was pulling a large bowl filled with salad out of the refrigerator said, "Agent Collins here didn’t get into town until just a couple of hours ago, drove all the way. Ralph thought instead of going straight to work he’d welcome him to our "village" by inviting him to dinner."

  "And I really do appreciate it, thank you both for having me. It’s a very kind gesture. Beats the heck out of fast food." He looked to Minnie, "I’ve never had famous lasagna before."

  She blushed a bright red that made her face look like the world’s largest lollypop and set our four bowls for salad and poured two cups of coffee from the freshly brewed pot. "Dan, what would you like to drink?"

  I looked at Agent Collins and for the first time thought that maybe my luck was finally going to run out. "Beer, please," I said, taking a seat at the other end of the table.

  A few minutes later Minnie had all the food laid out before us, looking and smelling heavenly. Despite my knotted stomach my appetite had remained surprisingly intact. Before we ate, Ralph said a blessing, during which he thanked the Good Lord for Special Agent Collins and the help he would provide to stop the devil that was at work in Jacob’s Bluff.

  First though, we’d share lasagna.

  Dinner went smoothly enough, I suppose. Ralph, Minnie, and Special Agent Collins did most of the talking while I sat mostly in silence and listened, eating and wondering if the man across the table from me would work fast enough and smart enough to figure me out before I could finish my work. I tried to look actively involved in the conversations--laughing at the right spots and all--but my mind was elsewhere.

  I was ninety percent certain I was just being paranoid, and with good reason being there was an FBI agent sitting at the same table as I, but the remaining ten percent of fear forced me to eat quickly and stay at the table no longer than was necessary or polite. Before I excused myself though, I let Ralph and Minnie in on Jenna’s visit.

  I waited for a lull in conversation, watching the other three mouths at the table chew on Minnie’s perfectly cooked meal, and then said, "Oh, Ralph, Minnie, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got a, uh… friend coming to visit, day after tomorrow."

  Ralph laughed and took a sip of coffee. "You’ve convinced somebody to come out here? Must be a good friend, what his name?"

  "Well, we used to work together, and yeah, pretty good friend. Her name is Jenna."

  Minnie swallowed so hard and fast I could hear it easily from my seat. "Ooooh, it’s a woman coming to visit? Well how nice is that, Ralph?" She sounded like my mother when I was fourteen and had invited Michelle Coggey to come over and study after school one day. We drank Dr. Peppers and ate my mom’s homemade peanut butter cookies at the kitchen table, all while Mom watched from the living room. It was embarrassing.

  "I’m glad," Ralph said. "I’m sure Dan here is ready for some company other than us two old farts."

  Agent Collins laughed at this, nearly squirting coffee out his nose. I wish he had. I bet it would have burned. This caused us all to laugh, and I got up from the table, putting my plate in the sink.

  "I would have told you sooner, but you know, we’ve all been pretty busy. I’m going to pick her up from the airport, so I’ll be gone early on Thursday."

  Ralph waved a hand at me. "Not a problem, son. You do what you need to do. We’ll manage."

  Then Minnie, "Are we going to get to meet this girl, Dan? Surely you’ll bring her by here at some point, right?"

  "Now Minnie, the boy has his own plans, he can do whatever he wants. If bringin’ this lady by our place isn’t part of it then so be it." Then Ralph turned to me, "Where’s she going to stay?"

  Jenna and I actually had never discussed this. I mean, I think we both assumed a hotel somewhere, that would only be appropriate, but no details were talked about. It didn’t matter though, it wasn’t exactly part of my plan for her to have to sleep anywhere. Clearly without thinking, I said the first place that came to mind. "I’m not sure, maybe the Holiday Inn in Laren--"

  I cut myself off but it was too late, the looks all around the table said it all. I had inadvertently brought up the murders and the moods of everybody present sunk back down for a moment. There was a bit of silence and then Ralph spoke up, "Well, wherever she stays, I hope she enjoys her visit." Then with a big grin, "Do you need me to tell you how to show a woman a good time in this town?"

  "Like you’d know anything about that," Minnie piped up loudly. We all laughed and I took the opportunity to wave goodnight and head upstairs.

  I swear I could feel Special Agent Collins’ stare until I was out of sight.

  Chapter 42

  I slept a little later than usual the next morning, partially because I had trouble actually getting any sleep. I tossed and turned mostly, both out of anticipation of Jenna’s arrival, and because of the nightmares I had when I did manage to fall asleep.

  I had nightmares of myself sitting behind bars in a run down cell, naked except for my boxer shorts, cold, hungry and humiliated. Special Agent Collins was sitting at a large oak desk in a high back leather chair, fingers laced and staring at me from outside the bars with a smug grin.

  "Did you think you’d get away with it?" he asked. "I mean, honestly? Did you think in this day and age you’d be able to kill two innocent women and not get caught?" He shook his head, "Tsk tsk tsk."

  I didn’t say anything, only stood shivering in the cold, wrapping my arms around myself trying to generate any warmth I could.

  "I knew it was you the moment I met you, Dan. It was so obvious. You might as well had ‘I’m a killer’ tattooed on your forehead in blue ink." He laughed a booming laugh that seemed to rattle my cell bars. "It’s a shame, smart guy like yourself; young, talented, successful. To just flush it all down the toilet like that…terrible thing." He swiveled slowly in his chair, left and right, left and right. That grin never wavering. "So…" He started. "Why’d you do it, huh? You wanna tell me? You might as well, you’ve got nowhere to go now."

  I only stood and stared, but tears started to prick at my eyes.

  "Ohhh, I see," he said, the grin turning into an all out toothy smile. "I see what this is about." He stood up from the chair and cracked his knuckles. "This is about your wife, isn’t it? About Amy. Ah yes…"

  A few of the tears escaped. I wanted to yell at him, scream at him and tell him how sorry I was, how sorry I was for all of it, but he wouldn’t understand. Never would.

  "Well that’s all fine and well, I guess." He started towards a door I saw for the first time, off to the side of the room and although backwards I could read the words stenciled on the other side of the glass pane: SPECIAL AGENT HULK.

  He reached out with his hand and turned the knob. Then, before pulling the door open he turned to me and said, "I found her, you know. I found your wife and it wasn’t easy. I had to do a lot of digging, pardon the pun. I told her everything you did." He pulled the door open then and standing on the other side, wearing the same dress she had been buried in, was my Amy.

  She stood motionless, except for a slight sway back and forth, like a drunk who was trying hard not to pass out a
nd bite the dust. Her dress, once new and pretty, was streaked with mud and something black. One of the shoulders was torn and it hung loosely down her arm. Her face, the face I had loved and kissed and held in my hands when she was upset or crying, was now bloated and lit with a faded purple color that reminded me of a child’s tongue after eating a blue popsicle. Her eyes were open, but not seeing, only staring off in different directions and not blinking. Her lips were cracked and split, and there were leaves and pieces of grass stuck in her hair, which was sticking out everywhere.

  Despite her appearance, despite the hideous form before me, I still loved her, I still wanted her. I cried out from my cell, grabbing the bars with my hands and shaking them until my joints ached. "Amy, my God, Amy! I’m so sorry, hunny. Oh, I’m so fucking sorry!" The tears that had been dripping steadily now poured, no longer able to contain themselves. "Oh, baby, please hear me, please forgive me. I love you so much, oh I miss you!"

  She didn’t so much as glance my direction, her eyes still focused on nothing. I turned to Agent Collins, who was standing beside my wife and still smiling. I wanted to knock every last tooth out of his steroid popping face. "Let me out of here!" I pounded on the bars. "Let me out! I need to talk to her, I need to… to… I need to hug her! Let me out you prick! Lock me up forever afterwards, do whatever you need to do but for the love of Christ let me tell my wife I’m sorry, face to face. Let me tell her goodbye. Let me kiss her one last fucking time!"

  I was out of breath and my hands were throbbing in pain from my assault on the cell bars. Agent Collins walked over closer to Amy and put an arm around her waist. My stomach wrapped around itself as jealously flooded through me. "Get your hands off my wife you bastard."

  He shook his head, "Tsk Tsk Tsk. Haven’t you figured it out yet? She’s not your wife anymore. You killed her remember? You fucked your agent and then sent Amy off into a car crash. A pretty bad one, too, if I might add."