Chapter 6
I folded the receipt carefully.
Put it in my pocket.
Said nothing to the police.
They were busy with Ryan and Brooke.
They’d get to Jesse Cole eventually.
Or they wouldn’t.
Either way, I wasn’t waiting.
This one was personal.
This man had held the tool that had killed my babies.
He’d known exactly what would happen when they got in that car.
And he’d done it anyway.
For five hundred thousand dollars.
A life for two hundred and fifty grand each.
I went to my room.
Locked the door.
Pulled out the burner phone.
Jesse Cole.
Thirty-eight years old.
Two prior felonies.
Grand theft auto.
Aggravated assault.
Served five years.
Got out three years ago.
Started working at a shady auto shop on the east side.
Lived alone in a trailer park by the river.
No wife.
No kids.
Just a dog and a drinking problem.
Ryan had paid him half up front.
The other half was supposed to come when the insurance cleared.
Which meant Jesse was probably getting very nervous right about now.
His partner was in jail.
The money was frozen.
And the secret he’d thought was buried was about to come out.
Desperate men make mistakes.
I was counting on it.
That night, I waited until the police had all left.
Until the house was quiet.
I changed into dark clothes.
Black jeans.
Black hoodie.
Black sneakers.
Put the receipt in my pocket.
Grabbed the knife from under my pillow.
And I left.
The drive to the east side took forty minutes.
The auto shop was closed.
Dark.
Locked up tight.
But the address on the receipt wasn’t the shop.
It was Jesse’s trailer.
Three miles away.
Down a dirt road.
By the river.
No neighbors.
No streetlights.
Perfect.
I parked my car half a mile away.
Walked the rest of the way through the trees.
The moon was bright.
Full.
I could see the trailer clearly.
One light on in the bedroom window.
A truck parked outside.
A dog chained to the porch.
Big.
Mean-looking.
I circled around the back.
Stayed in the shadows.
Listened.
Jesse was on the phone.
Angry.
“I don’t care if he’s in jail!” he shouted. “We had a deal! Five hundred grand! You think I cut those brakes for fun? That was two kids, man! Two fucking kids! I’ve been having nightmares ever since! I want my money! And I want it now!”
A pause.
“What do you mean, the money’s frozen? That’s bullshit! You said—”
He screamed.
Threw the phone against the wall.
I heard it shatter.
Good.
He was unraveling.
Fast.
The dog started barking.
Loud.
Furious.
He’d smelled me.
Jesse went to the door.
“Shut up, you stupid mutt!” he yelled.
He kicked the dog.
It yelped.
My hand tightened around the knife in my pocket.
He was a dead man walking.
I just had to decide how to do it.
The front way was too risky with the dog.
I circled back to the rear of the trailer.
Found a window.
Unlocked.
Bad security.
Typical for a man who thought he was too tough to be robbed.
I slid it open.
Slipped inside.
The trailer smelled like beer and cigarettes and regret.
I moved silently through the dark.
Jesse was in the kitchen now.
Rummaging through a cabinet.
Pulling out bottle after bottle of whiskey.
He opened one.
Drank straight from it.
Half the bottle in one go.
Perfect.
The drunker he was, the easier this would be.
I stepped into the doorway of the kitchen.
“Hello, Jesse.”
He spun around.
Whiskey sloshing out of the bottle.
His eyes went wide.
“Who the fuck are you?” he slurred. Reaching behind his back for something. A gun, probably. “How did you get in here?”
“I’m Megan Carter,” I said.
The color drained from his face.
All the drunk seemed to vanish in an instant.
He knew that name.
He’d been paid to make me a grieving mother.
“The twins’ mom,” I said. “The woman whose children you killed for money.”
His hand came out from behind his back.
He had a gun.
But he was shaking too badly to aim it.
“Stay back,” he said. Voice cracking. “I didn’t want to do it! He made me! Ryan said it was just an insurance thing! Said nobody would get hurt! I didn’t know—”
“Didn’t know what?” I took a step forward. “That two six-year-olds would die when you cut the brake line? That they’d be scared? That they’d suffer? Or did you just not care as long as you got paid?”
“I’m sorry!” he cried. Tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry! I needed the money! My sister was sick! She needed surgery! I had no choice!”
“Everyone has a choice,” I said. Another step. “You chose money over my children’s lives. And now you’re going to pay for that choice.”
The gun went off.
The bullet went through the wall two feet to my left.
He was too drunk.
Too scared.
I didn’t flinch.
Just kept walking toward him.
“Stay back!” he screamed. Firing again. This one hit the ceiling. “I’ll kill you! I swear I will!”
“Then do it,” I said. I was ten feet away now. Five. “Kill me like you killed them. Cold. Calculated. For money. Except I’m not six years old, Jesse. And I’m not going to close my eyes and trust the man behind the wheel.”
Three feet.
He dropped the gun.
Fell to his knees.
Sobbing.
“Please,” he begged. “Don’t kill me. I’ll turn myself in. I’ll testify against Ryan. I’ll tell the police everything. Just please don’t hurt me.”
I looked down at him.
The man who’d murdered my babies.
Crying on his kitchen floor.
Begging for the mercy he’d never given Ava and Ethan.
I pulled the knife from my pocket.
His eyes went huge.
“NO—”
I moved fast.
Not at him.
At the gun on the floor.
I kicked it across the room.
Then I knelt down in front of him.
Knife still in my hand.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m not going to kill you.”
He stared.
Disbelieving.
Relieved.
“You’re not?”
“No.” I leaned close. “Because death is too easy. You’re going to live, Jesse. You’re going to live with what you did. Every single night. You’re going to see their faces every time you close your eyes. You’re going to hear their screams. And you’re never going to have a single peaceful moment for the rest of your miserable life.”
I stood up.
“And then you’re going to prison,” I continued. “For a very long time. And the men in there? They don’t like people who kill kids. Especially not for money. They’re going to make your life a living hell. Every single day. And when you finally die—old, alone, and hated—you’re going to burn in hell for eternity. And even that won’t be enough.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
Held it up.
The red recording light was blinking.
“Everything you just said,” I told him. “About Ryan. About the brakes. About the money. All of it. Recorded. And the police are on their way. I called them before I came in. They should be here any second.”
Realization hit him.
Slowly.
Horribly.
“You set me up,” he whispered.
“I did.” I smiled. “And you walked right into it. Just like Ryan. Just like Brooke. You all think you’re so smart. So clever. But you never see the people you hurt as real human beings. You never think we might fight back.”
Sirens in the distance.
Getting closer.
Jesse collapsed forward.
Forehead on the floor.
Sobbing harder than ever.
I walked to the back window.
Climbed out.
Closed it behind me.
Walked back through the trees to my car.
The police cars passed me on the dirt road.
Lights flashing.
Sirens wailing.
I drove away.
And I didn’t look back.
Three down.
But something still nagged at me.
The insurance agent.
The one who’d helped Ryan get the policies.
Who’d known they were forgeries.
Who’d been promised a cut.
He was still out there.
And he had powerful friends.
Friends who might try to make all of this go away.
May you like
I turned the car toward the city.
It was going to be a very long night.
