I get a sick feeling just thinking about it. This is my life from now on. Hiding from the police. I’ll never see my home again. I’ll never see my sister again.
But it’s that or life in prison.
After my bag is packed, I hesitate at the top of the stairwell, my stomach fluttering. I was up there too long. Too many wasted minutes. What if Scott came back to check on me? What if he didn’t really believe I was watching the movie Scream?
What if the first floor of my house is crawling with cops, waiting to drag me away in cuffs?
My sensible sneakers thump on the steps. I take them slowly, watching to see if anyone is waiting for me. My heart is pounding. I was stupid to spend so much time up there. I should have grabbed whatever I could and run.
But the living room is silent. Just like I left it.
Thank God.
I won’t make the same mistake again. I don’t bother to look around the living room and make sure I’ve gotten every last thing. Everything I own is expendable. Anyway, what would I take? A picture of me and Derek from one of our trips? No way. I want to forget his perfect, handsome, smug face.
So instead, I go straight to the garage. My blue Toyota Corolla is sitting there, waiting for me. We have a two-car garage and Derek’s Porsche is right next to my Corolla. He never understood why I didn’t want a fancy, expensive car like he had. Why would I keep the same crappy Corolla I drove back when I was single?
He didn’t get it. This car is mine. I paid for it myself, unlike our ridiculously extravagant house and furnishings. It’s the last thing I own that still feels like me.
I climb in my Corolla and start up the engine.
And I run.
Chapter 3
I have no idea where I’m going.
It’s not like I did this with any kind of well-thought-out plan. I didn’t wake up this morning and say to myself, Hey, I’m going to kill my husband today! If I had done something like that, I would have filled up my gas tank beforehand, for starters.
I also would have picked a better day to do it, weather-wise. December has been unseasonably warm this year, but of course, today would be the day we get blessed with freezing rain. That lovely combination of rain and snow is slowly coating the roads and obscuring my windshield as I travel as fast as I dare. And all the while, the sun is dropping in the sky, making it harder and harder to see.
It’s like Derek is already haunting me from beyond the grave.
But I’ve got to keep going. I have to put as many miles as I can between me and the house where I murdered my husband. Because I don’t have long.
I'm going to head north. I need to get out of the country. And I’m far closer to Canada than I am to Mexico. Hopefully at the border, they won’t look too carefully at my passport and just wave me through.
I’ve been driving less than twenty minutes when my phone rings. The display in my car pops up the name Claudia Delaney.
It’s my sister.
I hesitate, not sure if I should take the call. It’s not that I don’t have some friends and coworkers that I like, but the only person I’ll really miss will be Claudia. She’s four years older than me, and she’s always looked out for me, especially after our parents died when I was only fourteen. When she finds out what happened, she’s going to be worried sick.
I’ve got to talk to her one last time. I need to let her know I’m all right.
I press the button to take the call. “Hi, Claudia!” I say in a voice that is so ridiculously chipper, I’m convinced she’ll know instantly something is wrong.
“Hey, Quinn,” she says. “Where are you? Are you free?”
I almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is. “Not at the moment. I’m… still at work.”
“What time do you get off? Do you want to grab dinner?”
“No, I…” I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. “I have to work late tonight.”
“Again?” She lets out a huff. “They work you way too hard at the bank.”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
Claudia clucks her tongue. “Tell you what. How about if I come over tonight with a bottle of wine? We can watch something on Netflix.”
“No!” The light turns red, and I have to jam my foot on the brake to keep from crashing into the car in front of me. That’s all I need right now. “I mean… I’ve got a headache and I… it’s not a good night. I don’t feel like socializing.”
There’s a long silence on the other line. “Quinn, are you okay?”
“Fine!” My voice cracks on the word, and I have to clear my throat. “I’m totally fine, Claudia. Really.”
“Are you sure?”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, picturing my sister’s round face, Cupid’s bow lips, and dark hair cut into a bob. I wish I could tell her the truth. I want more than anything to tell Claudia what happened and what I’ve done. If there’s any person in the world who would understand, it’s her.
But if I tell her the truth, she’s going to try to convince me to come back. She doesn’t want to lose me, so she’ll tell me to come home. And that’s the wrong thing to do. She doesn’t know the extent of the connections Derek’s family has. And even though she doesn’t like Derek, she doesn’t really understand quite how bad he is. I’ve been afraid to tell her all the details, because I thought she would beat him to death with a rolling pin—she’s very protective of me. And truthfully, I didn’t understand quite how bad he was until today.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I promise.”
“Do you triple dipper promise with a cherry on top?”
That’s something we always used to say when we were kids. Because the ice cream store down the block had a triple dipper cone with a cherry on top, and it was our favorite. “Yes. I triple dipper promise with a cherry on top.”
“Fine.” I hear the pout in her voice. “But you owe me dinner out. Tomorrow night, Rob and I are going out… how about Sunday?”
I swallow. I can’t agree to Sunday. Because when I don’t show up, she’ll go to my house. I don’t want her to be the one to discover Derek’s body—I can’t do that to her. “How about Monday?”
“Deal. Let’s meet at Donatello’s at seven. Don’t be late!”
“I won’t.” I hesitate, desperately wanting to say the words, I love you. Claudia is my only family, and I may never see her again. I want to tell her I love her, but if I do, she will for sure know something is wrong. It’s not the typical way we end conversations. So instead, I say, “Bye, Claudia.”
“Bye! Remember—don’t keep me waiting!”
We end the call, and I sit there for a moment, staring at the freezing rain hitting my windshield.
“I love you, Claudia,” I say to the windshield.
And then I start to cry.
_____
Ironically, the first time I met Derek, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.
It’s strange because of… well, how handsome he is. Was, I should say. He walked into our little New Hampshire bank, lighting up the entire room with his gleaming chestnut hair, deep brown eyes, and perfectly chiseled features. He filled out his Armani suit like he was poured into it. Every item I owned in the world combined, including my freaking car, was worth less than that suit.
Melody, who sat at the desk next to mine, nudged me hard and licked her lips. I was secretly hoping Derek would sit down in front of Melody’s desk. But no. He chose mine.
Derek explained his situation to me. His family owned a rather large Boston-based business and was looking to expand to the rest of New England. When he said the name of the company, my mouth fell open. My first instinct was that our bank was too small and he was too big a fish. But he was hoping for the personalized service that our small bank would provide.
That is to say, he hoped we would fall all over ourselves to help him.
The vice president of the bank came out to meet with him personally. When he found out that I was the one dealing with Derek, he gave me
a meaningful look. Be really nice to this one, Quinn.
So when I had finished setting up an account for Derek and he asked me out for drinks after work, I said yes. After all, I had to be nice.
I was single at the time. And Derek was so nice and charming when we went out for drinks. I didn’t quite trust him, because how could you trust somebody with so much money who looked like that? You would have to be stupid not to have a healthy dose of skepticism. But over the evening, he wore me down. When he asked if I would have dinner with him on Saturday night, I agreed.
Only six months later, he asked me to marry him. Six months after that, we tied the knot. The entire year, it was like floating on a cloud. Derek was the most wonderful man I had ever met.
It wasn’t until after we were husband and wife that everything changed.
Derek had been shopping for a new bank, but in retrospect, what he really had been shopping for was a wife. He took one look at me and decided I fit the bill. I still don’t know what it was about me that drew him to me. Or maybe it was all just dumb luck. Maybe if he had sat in front of Melody’s desk, she would be the one now speeding towards the state line.
I wish it could have been different. I wish Derek had been the man he promised to be. Or better yet, I wish I had listened to Claudia and stayed the hell away from him.
But it’s too late now. I have no choice but to play with the cards I’ve been dealt.
Chapter 4
The gas tank is just about empty. There are usually twelve dots on the gas gauge, and I’m down to the last dot. I don’t know how long one dot will last, and I don’t want to know. I need to get some gas—now.
I’ve been on the highway for about half an hour, and I look for signs for the next rest stop. I’m looking for the tiny signs—the stops where almost nobody gets off, where I’m least likely to be spotted. Not that I think anybody is looking for me yet, but I don’t know for sure.
When I see the tiny sign for Rocco’s Gas Station, I pull off the highway. When I drive into the two pump station, I’m relieved to see it’s exactly what I’m looking for. A quiet little self service station, with a tiny store attached and an elderly man sitting at the counter. There’s only one other car at the station—a gray pickup truck that looks like it’s seen better days.
I park my car at the remaining pump and pop the lid for the gas tank. I zip up my black coat and throw on my hood, then step out into the cold. Droplets of freezing rain immediately smack me in the face. I barely feel it though. I’m not feeling much of anything anymore.
You’ve made a fool out of me for the last time, Quinn.
I can hear his last words so loudly, it’s like he is speaking in my ear. I can’t stop imagining Derek coming at me. The rage on his face. He was convinced I was cheating on him, even though I never looked at another man. I was too scared to even talk to another man. Once Derek came to see me at the bank, and he “caught” me talking to an attractive male client—he was beyond furious about it that night. It didn’t help that Derek himself had once been my client. Ever since then, I tried to send any male customers who weren’t elderly over to one of my coworkers.
But I’m safe now. He can’t get to me.
Never again.
I insert my credit card, select regular, and fill up my tank. This will be the last time I use my credit card. There’s an ATM in the gas station store, and I’m going to take out as much money as it will let me. Then that’s it. I’m going off the grid.
After my tank is full, I look into the store. That old man is still behind the counter, and the owner of the truck is moving around inside the store. I dig around inside my pocket and pull out my cell phone. I keep my eyes on the store as I drop the phone into the back of a pickup truck, below a blue tarp. I don’t know if anyone can track me with my phone, but if they do, they’ll track me to wherever this guy is going. Maybe that will buy me some time.
The first thing I see when I get into the store is the television monitor set up behind the counter. The old man is watching it to entertain himself. It’s tuned in to the local news.
“Lousy weather we’re having, eh?” the old man says. There’s a glob of drool in the corner of his mouth.
I offer him a ghost of a smile. “Yes…”
I stand there for a moment, trying to decide if I should take my hood off or not. The hood conceals my hair and some of my face. But then again, I don’t want him to remember me as the lunatic walking around with a furry hood on indoors. After a moment of deliberation, I leave it on.
There are some sandwiches set up in a refrigerated area, but I don’t know about eating egg salad from the gas station store. This egg salad might be older than I am. Instead, I stick with grabbing a few packs of trail mix and nutrition bars. Then I see a pack of cheese doodles. I love cheese doodles. I don’t think I’ve eaten cheese doodles in the last two years. Derek kept a close eye on what I ate.
Stuffing your face again, Quinn? You’re getting pretty chunky.
During dinner with some friends of his, he became enraged when I ordered a chocolate mousse for dessert. He marched me to the bathroom scale when we got home, and after that, we did regular weigh-ins. He would write the number each week in a little notebook. As I would step on the scale, I would hold my breath, knowing if my weight was even a pound higher than last week, he would go crazy.
I put back the trail mix and nutrition bars. Instead, I grab the cheese doodles and a pack of Oreos. To hell with Derek. He’s dead anyway.
Before I pay for my purchases, I hit the ATM. My fingers are shaking as I type in my PIN number. The upper limit on withdrawals is only two hundred dollars. Not enough, although it will have to be. Dammit.
As I’m pulling out my cash, I feel a pair of eyes on my back. I glance behind me—it’s a guy around twenty-five who’s nearly a foot taller than me with arms and legs like tree trunks. He’s probably the owner of the pickup truck. He flashes me a smile, and I nod as imperceptibly as I can.
I go to the refrigerator and grab a couple of bottles of water, but I still feel his eyes on my back. Derek was always accusing men of staring at me, but right now I’m wearing a big puffy coat and my hood is on. Why is he looking at me?
I don’t need this right now. I need to get out of the store and back on the road.
I’m juggling my water, cheese doodles, and the Oreos as I make my way to the counter. The large man follows me, his boots squishing as they make wet footprints on the ground. This time I don’t turn to look at him.
I dump all my purchases on the counter. And I grab a couple of Twix bars for good measure. I’ll pay with my credit card this one last time. I already used it at the gas station, so I might as well.
“That all?” the old man behind the counter asks me.
I nod. The gaze of the man behind me is boring into me. I’ve got to get out of here.
While the old man rings up my purchases, I glance at the television screen. It’s still tuned to the news. The local news. I hold my breath as I wait to hear what stories they announce. They’re talking about some sort of problem with the school heating system. That’s good. They wouldn’t be talking about a bunch of heaters if they found a dead body in a local couple’s house.
But it’s just a matter of time. They’re going to find him.
“Here you go.” The man slides a paper bag with my purchases across the counter at me. His eyes dip down to look at the name on my credit card. “Have a good day, Quinn.”
I flinch at the mention of my name. But it’s fine. I’m getting back on the road, and by the time the police track me to this place, I’ll be long gone.
But as I head for the door, so does the man from the pickup truck. He’s following me.
I rifle around in my pocket for my keys. All I can do is get to my car as quickly as I can. The old man is still watching, so it’s not like the guy is going to attack me.
As I step outside, a gush of cold smacks me in the face. It must’ve gotten at least ten degrees colder wh
ile I was in that store. The rain hasn’t quite turned into snow yet, but it will soon. How much longer can I stay on the road?
And what’s worse, I can hear the man’s footsteps behind me.
I quicken my pace. I don’t know what he wants, but it can’t be anything good. There are about twenty feet between me and my car. I’ve just got to make it twenty feet. I hit the key fob and my car lights up. Almost there.
But then a brawny hand grabs my shoulder.
Chapter 5
“Quinn?”
He knows my name. This random stranger at a gas station is calling me by my name. Of course, the old man read it off my credit card, so he might’ve heard him. But as I whirl around to confront him, I see the recognition on his face.
“Quinn, right?” he says again.
“Um…” I look down at my plastic bag of groceries, then back up at his face. Despite the man’s size, there’s nothing menacing about his facial expression. “Yes…”
He grins at me. “I’m Bill Walsh. Billy. You used to babysit for me.”
My mouth falls open. That was the absolute last thing I expected him to say. “Oh.”
He rubs his hands together. “Do you remember me?”
I babysat a lot of kids when I was a teenager. The name Billy Walsh sounds mildly familiar. But I’m guessing this hulking man looks a lot different than he did when he was a kid. “Sure,” I lie.
His eyes light up. “You were my favorite babysitter. You always let me have as many cookies as I wanted.”
I’m not sure if that’s the way I want to be remembered, but it could be worse. But it’s troubling that even with my hair a different color than when I was younger and hacked into a bob and a hood mostly concealing it, he still recognized me. Apparently, I’m not quite as incognito as I had hoped.
Do Not Disturb: An addictive psychological thriller Page 2
