THIRTY-SIX
GENEVIEVE HILL
The door opens, and he slowly steps out of the dirty blue pickup truck. I made sure to get here before he did. My position during the exchange is the most crucial part of the mission. Every mission has its steps. You have to break it down step by step so you don’t miss anything important. That’s how you get it done. Each step has to be planned and precise. You have to be careful when you invite other people into your plans, though. That’s why I never have before. I won’t make this mistake again.
But I didn’t have any other choice if I wanted to change people’s perspective about Mason. I didn’t like the way they were starting to look at him and talk about him like he was something to be scared of, because that’s not what I want them thinking. I didn’t go through all the work with that boy for people to start treating him like he wasn’t still a sweet, innocent child. I had to do something. Just to shift their perspective back to the right size.
Annabelle was never supposed to die. That was never part of the plan. But again, that’s what I get for letting someone else help me. If you want to get a job done right, then you’ve gotta do it yourself. That’s what Daddy used to say to me. He was right about a lot of things, my daddy.
All I wanted was for people to see how wonderful Mason is despite his disabilities, and what better way to do that than to make him the local hero? Everybody loves a small-town hero. Look how nuts people went when I fought that boar off the poor little girl in Africa. They didn’t know I was the one who let it loose in the first place, but it was a small price to pay for all the recognition it got their village and that sweet girl. Some nice family in the UK adopted her as soon as the video went viral.
Anyway, I figured there was no better way to make Mason a hero than having him save the mayor’s wife. That’s why I paid someone to attack her while she was running. Mason was supposed to stumble on them and make it look like he saved her. Throw him off her, and she’d tell the frightened story of how he’d rescued her. We practiced the throw hundreds of times just like we’d practiced for all his psychological tests. He learned it almost as fast as he’d learned how to not react to physical pain. Mason’s always been such a fast learner, especially if you take away his food, and he’ll do just about anything for kisses—real ones or chocolate.
I can’t believe this is happening after I was so careful. I took my time finding the right guy for the job. Nothing about it was rushed or hurried. I responded to lots of different handyman ads on Craigslist and screened each one thoroughly before letting anyone near my house. Even fewer got selected for the job, and then I watched them for weeks, testing them out on little tasks first to see if they could be trusted. I was so cautious and careful, but I knew something had gone horribly wrong from the moment Simon instead of the guy I hired from Craigslist stepped out from behind the trees. It’s only gotten worse since.
This is my chance to set things right. There are always new beginnings. Another fresh start. That’s what happens when you’re washed in the blood of the lamb. Thank you, Jesus.
I steel myself as he approaches. The smell of dead fish and bugs clings to me in the damp heat hanging over us like a blanket. We used to dare kids to jump across the swamp when we were younger. The ultimate dare was to see how long you could stand in there before you freaked and jumped out. It’s not the water snakes or the crawfish squirming around your toes that’s terrifying—it’s the alligators. Rumor has it Buck Heeler lost two toes the summer of 1989, but nobody knows if that’s true or an old wives’ tale used to scare us off. Either way, it feels strangely powerful having it behind me.
“This place smells like shit.” His voice is muffled behind a nylon mask that’s got his eyes and mouth looking like dark holes.
“You picked it,” I remind him with so much more confidence than the last time I saw him and he hijacked me in the parking lot. It’s easier to feel strong when the gun from my daddy is tucked in the waistband of my jeans. I finally figured out the combination on the security cabinet. The digits to our first date. John was always such a romantic.
“I’m glad you made such a wise choice,” he says, and there’s no way to tell if he’s smiling or frowning underneath there. It’s like talking to a scary blank slate.
“You didn’t leave me much of one.”
He points to the duffel bag slung across my chest. “Is it all there?”
I drop it at my feet. “You want to see? Count it?” I’d kick it over to him, but it’s too heavy.
His eyes dart around before he hurries over and grabs the bag. He pulls it away from me like it’s already his. He fumbles with the zipper like he might be nervous. Maybe he’s never done anything like this before. That’s okay. I haven’t either.
He crouches on his heels while he paws through the money. I’m still amazed I got it all and super proud of myself too. Who knew I had it in me? It took forever to get because I had to be so careful not to trigger any kind of suspicions. That’s why I withdrew it from different banks zigzagged across Birmingham. I didn’t dare do it in one lump sum in case that flagged me or made me have to wait for it, so I did it in three smaller withdrawals. So far, so good.
“It’s all there,” I say, getting annoyed. It’s taking him forever to count it. I eye the woods and strain my ears. There’s always a chance he didn’t come alone. I wish he’d hurry. This needs to be over.
“I’m almost finished,” he says. He takes his time sorting through it and stands, slowly pulling the bag up with him. He slings it across his body like I had it on mine. Pieces of leaves stick to it from my run through the woods. Hiding the car was harder than I thought, so I had to slog through lots of the brush. “You’re right. All there,” he says like everything’s settled, and he straightens up like he’s about to head back to the truck.
“Wait! Where do you think you’re going?” I hold my hand up to stop him.
“We’re done here.”
I shake my head. “No, we’re not. We haven’t talked about Simon or the video.”
“We already talked about Simon, and I told you that he’d leave you alone as long as you gave me the money. What were you expecting? A signed contract that says he won’t come after you or tell anyone that you paid him to attack Annabelle?” He lets out a huge laugh, but I’m not amused.
“I want you to call him right now and tell him to stay away from me. I want to hear you say it.” I point at his black skinny jeans. He’s got to have a phone tucked in one of the pockets.
“That’s not happening. Believe me, as soon as he gets his cut, you’ll never hear from him or me again.”
“But what about the video?”
He lifts his hands, palms up. “What about the video?”
“You don’t get to just keep the video. I’m going to watch you delete it from your phone and the cloud,” I declare definitively like he doesn’t have any say in the matter. There’s no way to know if he’s already sent it to someone else or made copies, but it’s all I’ve got, and I’m not leaving here without at least that much. I’ve got to tie up as many loose ends as I can.