“There.” She uploads three videos and plays them from the beginning to end, then starts over. “The first victim definitely glances off to his right. If he was alone, who was he looking at?”
We view all three killings and come to the same conclusion. Unlike everyone assumed, the murderer did not break in while they were conferenced together. He could’ve gained entrance hours before. Maybe even days.
My spidey senses tingle the way they do when all hell is about to break loose. “Sam, we should hand this off to the police or the FBI. Let them catch the guy.”
“Have you seen the news? Much of the NYPD is out sick and the others are exhausted responding to nine-one-one. People are dying in their homes. It’s terrible. I promise to be super safe and follow all of your instructions but we have to do this. No one should prey on people during a pandemic. It’s, it’s fucked up.” When she puts it like that, my resolve weakens and I heave out a heavy sigh.
“Where are you so far?” Perhaps, I can help lower the risk.
She gives me a big ol’ grin like the time she scratched a card and won a hundred bucks. “Remember how I told you how I found an author who moved from the city to Florida? She’s agreed to let me use her apartment. She’s going to schedule an event and tell everyone she’s at home. I just need to convince the killer to select her meeting from the hundreds of thousands out there. I’m thinking I might do a play within a play. What do you think?”
“Like Hamlet?” I have no idea what she’s getting at but it sounds dicey.
My super-genius bobs her head and jumps in her seat. “Except for the king, the ghosts, and pretty much the rest, yeah.”
“Obviously, I’m not following.” Shakespeare never was my strong suit.
“It’s a setup. We know he’s monitoring my computer. Let him. He will think I’m setting him up and come after me, instead.” She beams but I want to take her over my knee.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Absolutely not.” Use her as bait? No, no, and no.
“Thanks for your support.” Sam pats my head. “It’s a great idea and I’ll get right on it. First, I need to go out for some milk and eggs.”
“I’ll go.” Standing, I cross my arms in a damn fine imitation of Superman but she trumps it withthe look.
“Sorry. You’re still recovering. No one knows how long you’ll be contagious.”
“I haven’t coughed for a week.”
On tip toes, her sweet lips brush against my ear. “And a few more days won’t kill you. I’m asking Nonna to make us masks. She’ll whip us up a couple and by tomorrow we should be good to go.”
“I’m going stir crazy here.”After I have a mask, that’s it. We switch roles.
“Go play in your gym. I’ll be right back.” She has no idea Dr. Jekyll has turned into Hyde. Otherwise, she wouldn’t treat me like a child.
While she’s gone, I call Slate and update him on the latest. His wife, while symptom free, is working double shifts, and I feel like an ass for bothering him.
“What can I do?”
“Pray.”
By my count, him asking the Almighty for help is a first. “Ain’t you agnostic?”
“Yeah. Time to hedge all bets.”
Him seeing-the-light causes one of my biggest fears to emerge. “Bro? You might want to marry your woman ASAP. Things get all sorts of weird when it comes to laws, hospitals, and who has say-so about her treatment.”
“On it. Talk soon.” He hangs up in the present while I time travel to the past.
All shot up, with my dad and his wife my closest kin, I lie in bed. Depressed and high on painkillers, they sue to have me removed from the hospital so they can pray me back to health. Thank God, my SEAL brothers got wind or I might never have walked again. Probably lost my eye, too.
I’m still brooding much later when Sam finishes her hair salon meeting. One should never let a good depression go to waste. I should call her mom and make peace. I honestly did not know that marrying her daughter would cause such a commotion.
“Sebastian?” The cold voice on the other side does not bode well for my future.
Best I get this over with.“Yes, ma’am. I need to apologize for somethin’ if you’ll let me.” While I wait for her answer, I wonder if I’ll ever be invited to Sunday dinner again. I sure will miss her spaghetti sauce.
“Go on.”
