Miss Murder

by Jenny Cosgrove

  MISS MURDER

  JENNY COSGROVE

  Anna's life never looked like it could fall apart like other people's lives did.

  She and Jake, her boyfriend of ten years, lived the perfect DINK lifestyle. Dual income, no kids. Free to use their money as they pleased and live an easy life. They looked like the typical hipster couple. Anna was blonde, long and lithe. She had the build of a gazelle and was one of the best cross country runners during her high school years. Jake had tattoos on both arms and managed a department at Peet's coffee. Making a combined income of over six-figures, they could save. They were considering using their savings to roam the world, then working another ten years and buying a house. Which would sort of make up for Anna's dreary job at the dairy plant. It wasn't anything glamorous, no dairy plant work could realistically be considered glamorous. And it wasn't interesting or exciting either, just the office work that kept the plant in order. Accounts, moving books, telling people when they were too early or late... The only true highlight was her friend, Tina.

  And today Tina was late, as usual.

  “It's like you don't take your work seriously.” Anna sighed. “You're late by a whole hour today. I should be giving you a form to fill in.”

  “But you won't, cause I'm cute.” Tina pulled an exaggerated pout before collapsing into her chair and putting on the kettle. A petite young woman at five-two, she looked up to Anna in more ways than one. Her big brown eyes and ivory skin got her plenty of suitors in the office, even some of the married men couldn't help but ask her out. “Coffee?”

  Anna nodded. “Sure, let's have a refill.”

  “Can't stay mad at me?” Tina laughed as she reached for her favorite flavor, pumpkin, in the cupboard. She scooped out the brownish-orange powder and poured it into two cups of hot water.

  “Not when you're making coffee... Besides, it's not like anyone saw you.”

  “Thank you.” Tina muttered in a sing-song voice, stirring the brew.

  “I wish I could sound as alert and happy as you.”

  “Just sleep an extra four or five hours, it'll be fine,” Tina laughed.

  “If only I had the time...”

  Tina shrugged and handed Anna the hot cup. “It's not like you don't make enough money, why not have a break?”

  Anna shook her head. “Nah, Jake and I almost have enough for our round the world year. It's taken a bit, but we'll make it.”

  Tina shook her head. “Ten years of savings to blow in a year.” She blew at the steam over her coffee then took a sip. “Mmmmm. I am the best and my coffee is the best.”

  Anna laughed, it wasn't like little home grown Tina would get it. “Well, we had the plan, save for ten years, travel the world. Save another ten years, get a house. Save another ten years, retire.”

  Tina nodded. “I guess it gets easier as your salaries go up. But it'll be wrecked when you have kids. My sister has three and they're eating her out of house and home.”

  Anna scowled. “No kids, no way.” Not for her, at least. She wanted to live a freer, happier life than that.

  “You say that now,” Tina said, testing the heat of the coffee again, “but most folks I know are changing their minds already. The baby bug can still get you.”

  Anna shook her head and smiled. “Not me. I'll get a dog.” She laughed a bit and they both settled in for work. No, she wouldn't ever want kids. She was twenty six now, she'd be thirty six when they had a house and forty six when they retired. No time in there to change nappies and run around after babies. Although... “I suppose we might need to spend some money on marriage.” Anna added almost wistfully.

  “Marriage?” Tina looked up over her computer. “Has Jake proposed?”

  Anna shook her head. “No, but he's bound to, isn't he? I mean, we've been together ten years now, since we went to that Summer camp. We've pretty much followed each other around everywhere. We've lived together for four years. Why not get married?”

  Tina shook her head and laughed a bit.

  “What's that about?” Anna growled. She never liked it when Tina, home grown, immature, less educated Tina, acted so condescending.

  “He just doesn't seem like the type to root down.” She replied. “Remember when I first met him?”

  Anna nodded. “You said he looked like the polygamous type and said we wouldn't last.”

  “Well, I still get that vibe from him. He doesn't feel like the sort of guy who'd marry.”

  “Well, you were wrong about that and you're wrong now. I bet he wants to propose somewhere nice on holiday.” Anna retorted.

  Tina raised her eyebrows sarcastically and sipped her coffee.

  She didn't give it much more thought over the day, but on her way home, Anna felt doubt and anger building up inside her. Sure, Jake never seemed like the monogamous type. Not to her, not to Tina and not to anyone. At camp everyone knew he was the guy who got into tens of teen panties and for some reason most of the girls were proud of it. And he was a disgusting flirt at all times. But their relationship had been on better grounds. Anna had held back for months to make sure he could be loyal to her and Jake seemed willing to work hard for a real relationship with her. She had followed his university choice and later crossed the country to find work in the town where he was hired. Of course he would be loyal to her. He had to be...

  But little things were starting to nag at her. The flirting. The late nights. The lack of an engagement, or even a promise ring. She had bought them both promise rings and wore hers religiously. But his rested on his bedside table at all times.

  She would start light. As soon as she got home she made a beeline for the bedroom and then for the living room, where Jake sat in his boxers, watching TV.

  “Hi sweetie.” He said. “Busy day?”

  “Mad busy.” Anna grinned. “By the way, seeing as we're going abroad in a few months, I'd really, really like you to start wearing this.” She handed him the ring.

  He looked it over and put it down on the table. “You know I don't do jewellery, sweetie.”

  “But this is different.” Anna insisted. “It's like that necklace you wore for your mother. You wore that so she knew you cared about her cause, right?”

  “Yeah, but why wear a stupid ring to show I'm your boyfriend?”

  “To keep the other girls away, to show you care about me.”

  Jake laughed. “I do care about you Anna... But people wear these if they plan on marrying and, to be honest, I never said I wanted to marry you.”

  Anna was taken aback, for a few seconds she didn't know what to say and fiddled with her ring. “But, you want to be with me forever, right?”

  “Of course, just not married.” Jake put the ring down on the table.

  “And only me, right?”

  Jake fell silent. “I've said I'm not comfortable having this talk.” He finally said. This was what he always said when she brought up marriage, commitment or past girlfriends.

  “But I just need to know. All you have to say is 'only you sweetie' and I'm good.” She shrugged.

  Jake shrugged back and continued watching the TV. He was unbelievable. Anna turned and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. How could he be like that? How could he be so stubborn, so non committal. He said he wanted to be with her forever. They had plans for a life together into his fifties. Sure, he didn't have to marry or wear the ring, but she'd like him to at least acknowledge her as his girlfriend, as his life partner. Especially before they went on holiday together. She sighed as she chopped the onions. Did he have to be so difficult?

  She heard a knock on the edge of the kitchen door frame. She ignored him.

  He walked up behind her and hugged her. “Come on sweetie, don't be like that.”

  She sighed. “What is it with you a
nd commitment?”

  She felt him shrug as he held her. “Do you want me to be honest?”

  “Of course, always.”

  “I've never been a one-chick man. I've never had to commit to one person. And I don't like the idea of promising anyone forever.”

  “But we're making all these plans together... I get the marriage thing, with divorce stats and all, but...” Anna sighed. It was awkward to put her thoughts into words.

  She felt Jake sigh as well. “Anna, I can't promise you commitment. It's not what I do. You've been my only girl most of the time, and always been my main girl, but I can't say there isn't anyone else, that there will never be anyone else or that they're just one night things, I...”

  Anna turned in his arms and pushed him back. “You what?”

  “Sweetie, I figured you knew. I mean, everyone knows, right? My brain likes you and my heart knows you're the one, but my dick, he...”

  “Who is she?” Anna asked. She couldn't believe it. He was seeing another girl? “How long?”

  “Well, them... pretty much from the start. I mean, you didn't expect me to go for months without, did you? I figured that was what you wanted... you got the relationship, I got the sex.”

  Anna moved forward and shoved him hard. He fell over on his back. “You're a worthless, lying cunt. I can't believe I trusted you for so long. I can't believe I didn't notice...” She stopped. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the look on his face. The blood. She looked down at her hand. The knife was in it, dripping red. The blood pooled under him and around the tear in his belly. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. His chest was still.

  Anna let out a choked, squeaky gasp and dropped the knife, backing herself up against the counter, trying to get away from that horrible scene. She had killed him. She had killed Jake. She hadn't meant to. But she had.

  She looked at the flecks of blood on her hands and, edging her way around the body, ran to the bathroom to wash them. She scrubbed until her skin was grazed and her hands were pink and swollen. She then collapsed next to the sink. What next? What next? Her mind raced. She'd just killed someone. She'd go to jail. No holidays around the world, no home together, nothing. Not to mention that without Jake it would all seem hollow and meaningless...

  But for now she had to hide the evidence. Reluctantly looking at her freshly cleaned hands, she gazed out the door. She had to do something. But what? She contemplated a story she read online a few weeks back about a man who killed his wife and, rather than dispose of the body, ate the flesh. But her stomach turned. She couldn't eat Jake. And throwing him in the bin would be obvious. They would probably be able to track him back to her eventually. For now... for now he had to stay in the flat.

  Carefully avoiding looking into the kitchen, Anna made her way to the bedroom and dug out a large suitcase. It was the one they had planned on using for their round-the-world trip. They were going to share it. She smiled a little. Oh well, it was all for him now. She threw out the few items in the bottom of it and made her way to the kitchen, half expecting him to be stood there, finishing making dinner. But the onions were still half chopped and Jake still lay there, paler than before, with the knife by his foot. Anna swallowed hard. This would take some doing.

  She opened the suitcase on the floor beside Jake and tried to lift him. His cold body was much heavier than she ever remembered him being. Blood smeared down her arms and front. He was too heavy. Too heavy. She dropped him again and he splattered his own blood across the tiles. She resisted the urge to run back to the bathroom for a shower. She looked at the case. The blood would spread through it and ruin it.

  She searched through the kitchen drawers for bin bags and carefully lined the case with them, bag after bag, layer after layer, again and again. Satisfied, she looked at Jake. She would start with the legs. They lifted into the bag surprisingly easily, although as she moved his limbs she noticed a wet, brownish pool in the blood and the stench of feces. She had to persevere. Using his knees as a lever, she managed to lift his hip up and into the bag. His lower portions occupied most of it. She carefully rearranged and bent his legs until there was more room. Then she moved to his shoulders and forced his back into the case. She curled him over himself and wedged his arms in as best she could.

  Layering more towels and plastic bags over his body, she covered his face last of all before zipping up the case. It would have to stay there for now. It was heavy. She was tired. She glanced at the massive stain on the floor. And she had work to do.

  She knew that piles of bloody paper towels in their tiny apartment bin would raise suspicion. So she gathered all but one of the remaining dark towels and a few dark bedsheets and used them to soak the blood up. After half an hour, she passed the last clean bed sheet over the floor. It was sparkling. They were all thrown in the bathtub and she put the shower on full, undressing before throwing her clothes into the pile and stepping in with a bottle of detergent.

  Under the scalding hot shower, she scrubbed at each item until the water ran clear off it. Then, she put them into a pile to take to the washing machine. By the end her hands were sore and red again and she could hardly stand, she was so sick, aching and shaky. She wobbled to her feet under the shower head and meticulously scrubbed every inch of her skin clean before stepping out and wrapping herself in the last dark brown towel.

  Once the laundry was on she felt much better. She looked from the bathroom to the kitchen and found no specks of blood from the dirty sheets and towels. She checked the kitchen and the sight of the suitcase reassured her. She picked up the knife from the floor and rinsed it under the hot tap before mopping the floor with scalding water from the kettle and making herself a cup of tea with what was left. She nodded to herself as she looked over the kitchen floor, hearing the washing machine hum in the background.

  Looking at the clock, she saw it was half past ten already. Where did the time go?

  She took her tea with her into the bedroom, roughly dried her hair with the towel, and got into bed. Turning off the light, she curled up tightly on her side of the bed, as far from Jake's side as she could get, and cried herself to sleep.

  The next morning she could hardly move. It all felt like a bad dream and she was hoping to roll over and see Jake asleep next to her. But she was scared of not finding him there. Or of finding him there, dead and unmoving. So she lay on her side of the bed, the alarm on her phone screaming at her, louder each time. She could have sworn she felt movement on the other side of the bed and it made her curl up tighter.

  As the light between the curtains grew brighter, so did her courage. She rolled over, bracing herself for whatever she might find there... Nothing. The bed was empty besides her. His side was undisturbed. She breathed a sigh of half relief and glanced from her tea, to his empty bedside table, to the time on her still screaming phone. She had fifteen minutes to make it to work on time. Fifteen minutes to check the laundry, the bathroom and the kitchen again, get dressed, grab her things and go to work.

  “Come on Anna, we have to get back to normal.” She told herself. She stood up and turned her alarm off. She swallowed the bitter, cold tea from her bedside table, down to the lime scaled dregs. “I'll get dressed and ready first.” She told herself, reaching for her clothes. But of course they were in the laundry. She went to the wardrobe and tried to ignore Jake's coats as she grabbed herself a new dress and blouse. She got dressed first, then went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, do her hair and put on her make-up. It looked bare. Too bare. Of course it did. All the towels were in the washing machine or the laundry pile. She would have to do more laundry when she got back.

  The living room was harder than she'd thought. He had apparently put a game on last night and it was there, still on pause, some character stood there waving a sword in the same motion over and over. The controller rested on the table. The remote on Jake's favourite sofa pillow, which was next to the neat pile of yesterday's work clothes and the not so neat pile of unopened mail. Anna moved t
o turn the TV off. It was hard. But it felt better once it was done. She walked past the kitchen, not looking in, as she collected her shoes from the hallway and slipped into them.

  For a moment she struggled with the choices of going into work without looking at the kitchen, or checking, just to make sure it wasn't all a dream. But it wasn't a dream, and as the image of Jake's corpse folded up in that suitcase brought tears to her eyes, she realized that if she was going to make it through the day she would have to wait to see him again.

  She grabbed her handbag and her keys. But she would see him again. Just once more. She would unzip him and look at him once more before she worked out where to bury him.

  On the drive into work she felt strangely collected, calm, together. Was it really this easy? She hadn't wanted to, hadn't intended to, but was it really this easy to kill someone? Was she really going to get away with it? In the books they talked about the guilt and that feeling that someone somewhere knew. But nobody knew. There had been no screams, no row. The neighbours would have barely heard them talking. She had raised her voice a bit near the end, but nothing else. And he died so soon when the knife pierced him. She hadn't even screamed after that, she hadn't had the energy.