I chewed on my lip.Fine.“There must be something in the car I can change into.”
—
It was nearing 3:30 a.m. when we finally got home, tired, grumpy and covered in dirt. Jenny grimaced at the sight of us. She’d taken over babysitting duty from Frank as soon as she’d finished work.
I was wearing nothing but a large black waterproof poncho I’d kept in my car for emergency downpours. My legs were streaked with dirt. We’d spent hours in the grave, digging far enough down that Danny’s final resting place wouldn’t be discovered. Thankfully, no one had discoveredus.I doubted anyone would’ve bought our prepared cover story of being a couple who got off on doing it in gravesites.
I turned to Fox as we entered the kitchen. “For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even tidy the house before you left?”
“I got Jenny’s call just as I was about to start!”
I slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. Jenny put down three glasses. She poured whiskey into mine and Fox’s, and into hers, a slosh of Bailey’s.
“Seriously?” I motioned at her glass.
“I don’t want to feel left out of the post-kill alcohol debrief, but I hate whiskey.” Jenny took out a notepad. “Begin.”
Fox downed his drink in one. The new health-conscious, fitness-obsessed Fox had come up with the rule of only ever drinking after a body dump. Considering this rule, I was surprised he wasn’t pushing for more kills.
Fox once again recounted the story of Danny coming at him with a gun, and the way he’d panicked and run him over without ever seeing who he was. He kept pointedly looking at me as he said this.
Jenny stopped him after he got to the part where we’d left the crash site in my car.
“And there was definitely no one at the Airbnb?”
I nodded. “No cars. No lights on. Shutters on windows. Didn’t look like anyone was staying there.”
Jenny tapped her pen against her mouth. “Maybe The Chameleon is one step ahead of us, and knew we’d clock the fake name on that guest list.”
Fox gripped his empty glass. “You think it was a trap? The Chameleon wanted to lure us out there?”
Jenny shrugged. “It’s something to consider. This fake name rents a house in a remote area, at the end of a dead end. And Danny comes at you with a gun.”
Fox poured himself more whiskey as Jenny scrawled in her notepad. “I’ll be doing a deep dive soon as I’m back in the office.” She looked up at Fox. “And give me the exact route you took from here to where you hit him. I’ll do a check for any CCTV that might’ve picked up anything.”
Fox tapped his phone and showed her the highlighted route on Google Maps. “I’ll send it to you.”
“Where is your car now?”
“Halfway down the road from the Airbnb. We’ll go back to it tomorrow and call a garage. We can use the ‘swerved to miss a deer’ line.”
I took a gulp of whiskey. “I’ll say I was driving. Bit of eyelash-fluttering, silly me, shit woman driver. And we won’t get any questions.”
Jenny looked at her notepad. “Okay, and the body is in our favorite graveyard. I’ll check and make sure that funeral tomorrow goes ahead with no hiccups. I’ll also double-check no cameras have been installed since my last sweep.”
I stretched. My forearms were aching from all the Danny-lugging and grave-digging. “Can we go to bed now?”
A loud Reggie cry erupted from the monitor. Jenny and Fox turned to look at me.
I downed my whiskey. “I guess not.”
Chapter TWENTY-NINE
Haze
“You need quicker reflexes, love!”The mechanic with the baseball cap had scoffed at my dramatic reenaction of a deer hopping out in front of me. As predicted, he had not questioned my story, merely patted my shoulder, understanding that it wasn’t my fault my womanhood limited my reaction speed and spatial awareness.
Jenny had driven me back to the scene of the crime, as Fox needed to be in the office. His assistant Richard had insisted he come in early to prepare for their meeting with a potential new client.
