The probably with being on the road is having shitty access to wifi. And being stuck in a car with Heather for so long. The woman snores.
Oh yes, we’re
still travelling. I’ve left my husband and…Casey behind to live their normal
lives and hold down the fort while I traverse the country trying to find the
people who want my family dead. Because it’s become very clear that whoever
approached Heather (and made her betray me – I still haven’t forgotten about
that) was definitely not FBI. The private investigation service led us to a woman
with very cute nails. I couldn’t bring myself to ply them off. Until I remembered
that they were only this nice because she made money by blackmailing people I
care about. So I had no problem breaking her fingers. And her toes. And burning
flower patters with cigarettes onto the open wounds.
What? I’m
an artist after all.
She
confessed that she was hired by another firm which was why she used an outdated
card, hoping it wouldn’t get back to her boss that she was moonlighting. That
firm had a head office in Italy for some reason, but we found a local branch a
few days’ drive. We figured an international investigation service was sketchy
as fuck, so we paid a stranger on Craig’s List to pretend to be a potential
client so we could scope them out ahead of time.
Seriously,
the invention of Craig’s List revolutionized the murder game. If I wanted, I
could pay my victims to come to me (and then keep the money because…obviously).
Like Door Dash but for Bodies.
It is very
much like prostitution, I realize, except my way is better off illegal.
Anyways.
Now Heather and I are sitting in a pay-by-the-hour motel room, draining a body
because we got all the information we needed from our Craig’s List guy and we
can’t exactly have witnesses.
Oh right.
That wasn’t
the murder that didn’t go the right way. The one I was going to tell you about
last week but my internet crapped out before I could finish writing.
We got a hold
of one of the investigators that hired our woman who threatened Heather. He was
very nice and told us that they were being paid very well by a woman who wanted
to find me. They couldn’t, so they outsourced to the woman who found Heather,
who found me. We are so close to the end of this thread. All we needed to do,
was find out who that woman was.
And then
Heather – fucking Heather – killed him before he could give us a name.
What. The
actual. Fuck.
I always
wanted a partner in this. That’s part of the reason I love James. I want
someone to be in it with me. But not Heather. Not like this. She. She got off
on telling me how to kill someone (we know this, and we were dealing with those
emotions) but watching her take a burning iron to a man’s eye and then bludgeon
him to death without batting an eye.
I should
have loved it.
Instead, it
scared me. How long has she been able to do that? Was she faking the whole time?
When she killed her husband, I believed he deserved it and it was an accident.
Was it really?
When I was
helping her dump the body, I asked her what happened and she just told me that
something took over. That she lost control. But it wasn’t like before, when I
could see the fear and shock in her eyes, the fear and remorse ever as she
watched with amusement. She didn’t like how much she enjoyed watching me kill.
Or at least that’s what I thought that look meant.
Maybe I’ve
been wrong about Heather.
I’m almost
scared to find out what happens when we finally do figure out who’s behind this
whole thing. Who wants me so badly, they’ll jump through all these hoops?
And why am
I more afraid of the woman I’m travelling with?
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
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