Killmore

by Martha Sweeney

  There’s a man kneeling in front of Quintin and there’s a three-piece standing mirror a few feet away. The man has a measuring tap draped around his neck as he put pins into the hem of Quintin’s pant leg.

  “Quintin,” I return speculatively.

  “Sit, my love,” he offers, gesturing to two chairs to his left.

  My body shivers at his pet name for me.

  “I was told you need a woman’s eye,” I mention.

  “Yes. Yes. You’re just in time,” he informs. “Marco here has come to fit me for some new suits and I was wondering if you’d help me choose the fabrics.”

  “Me?” I question.

  “You’re a blunt, but honest woman,” Quintin reminds. “Some would see that as a negative, I appreciate the truth.”

  “Sounds good,” I reply, moving one of the chairs before sitting in it to give me a better angle for viewing Quintin while also keeping my back to a wall to prevent surprises.

  “Would you like a drink?” Quintin inquires.

  “I’m good for now,” I comment.

  “Just let me know and I’ll have one of the boys get you whatever you need,” he insists.

  “Thank you.”

  Over the next thirty minutes, Marco presents Quintin and me with several different shades and textures of fabrics. Some are solid while others have thin pin stripes. Once Quintin decides on three different black fabrics after my input, we go through the same process with dark grey, navy blue and white. When it comes time for picking ties, I stand up, holding each one against the different pieces Quintin plans on having made while he stands still as Marco continues to measure, pin and tack the fabric around Quintin’s body. I’m grateful that Quintin keeps an undershirt on and doesn’t remove the pants in front of me, instead using the opposite side of the standing mirrors as a makeshift dressing area.

  “Mr. Carroll,” Jimmy calls from the door way. He offers me a half-pressed smile and nod when we make eye contact.

  I’ve come to forgive Jimmy after getting to know him a little better. He’s not a bad guy and when he apologized profusely to me on several different occasions for what happened with Cain, I couldn’t stay mad. The man was honest, thinking that Cain was a coyote when he had been caught off guard. He’s still timid around Cain, but Cain has been a bit gentler with him overall.

  “Yes, Jimmy,” Quintin returns.

  “Jay is here,”Jimmy informs.

  “Wonderful,” Quintin praises. “Send him in.”

  “Yes, Mr. Carroll,” Jimmy replies.

  Jay? As in the Jay that Aiden had mentioned to me a few times when we’ve talked about what he over hears on the feed? I can’t believe it. Aiden’s only gotten bits of pieces of information each time Quintin has spoken to Jay when Jay’s name was mentioned. There were other times Quintin was on the phone, but Aiden wasn’t sure who Quintin had been talking to. The conversations always sounded business-like to both of us, but I’m just as suspicious as Aiden is after being around Antonio for almost a year and overhearing many of his in-person and phone conversations. I think to text Aiden, but that might be too obvious to Quintin.

  From what I do know, Quintin does not seem to be the type of man to bother with drug suppliers. He seems too refined for that kind of dirty work. The conversations I’ve overheard Quintin have on the feed, with Aiden, myself, and at the country club, makes me think that he would be involved in much bigger dealings than just drug trafficking. Plus, he seems too smart to have any kind of a close connection with anything should things suddenly turn sour.

  Antonio, though he wasn’t an idiot, wasn’t near as smart as I perceive Quintin to be. The two of them speak differently, think differently, and act differently. If we were comparing the two men and how they function to sports, Antonio would be a minor league baseball team who has lost at least half of their games while Quintin would be the major league team who’s won the World Series for several years in a row.

  “Hello, Mr. Carroll,” a voice greets.

  The hairs over every single inch of my body stand on end as a deep, deadly chill runs down the middle of my back and my heart stops beating, ceasing the air from entering my body. My eyes dart up to where the voice came from and finds the body from which it originated as it stands in the door way. Not blinking, my brain desperately tries to rationalize that I’m hallucinating. That this person is not standing here before me and that my mind is playing tricks on me, inspiring me to see a ghost from my past. My body remains still, not sure of what’s going on while my eyes blink several times to clear the image of his face from the room.

  “Jay, my boy,” Quintin greets. “Come in. Come in.”

  Jay looks to me, offering a simple, curt smile as to apologize for interrupting and makes his way over to Quintin.

  Quintin hugs Jay, a form of affection that I’ve never seem Quintin do with any of his other boys. “How was your trip?”

  “It was fine, Mr. Carroll,” Jay replies.

  “Good. Good,” Quintin praises. “Come. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  My fingers itch to grab for one of the metal pens I had seen earlier on the desk that is to my right. I don’t have a single weapon on me because I knew I'd be searched by Quintin's men. I steady myself internally, hoping my external will not show the myriad of emotions thundering through me.

  “Jay,” Quintin begins, “this is my neighbor Laurie.” Quintin looks to me. “Laurie, this is Jay. One of my most trusted managers.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Jay comments, offering me his hand.

  My eyes stay fixed on his face as my hands remain at my sides.

  “Laurie’s not much of a toucher…or talker,” Quintin offers, easing the moment temporarily. “It takes a while for her to warm up to you.”

  Jay smiles and nods.

  Does he recognize me? It’s been over eight years and I look completely different. It’s not him. It can’t be.

  “Nice to meet you,” I’m able to utter with some control. I watch Jay and Quintin for any signs that they may have noticed a change in my behavior.

  “Jay here is taking a little break,” Quintin announces. “I told him he had to come visit me since he just finalized a major deal for my business.”

  “Wonderful,” I reply.

  “Quintin has mentioned a number of things about this town,” Jay offers. “He won’t admit it, but I think there’s a woman here who has caught his eye.”

  Quintin laughs. “I’m not telling,” Quintin states with a sparkle in his eye. “Besides, I really like it here.”

  “That’s what you’ve said,” Jay comments. “I guess it was time I found out why.”

  Fuck! It is him. The more he talks, the more I know that the Reaper has returned. Does Becky know about this? Do Aiden and Paul? The blood in my veins rage with anger and confusion. I need to get the fuck out of this town. It’s happening again. goddamn it!

  My phone buzzes, catching my attention. Aiden has just texted that he’s home and is looking to see if I’m still at Quintin’s.

  “Everything okay, Laurie?” Quintin inquires.

  “Yes,” I offer with a fake smile. “Aiden’s home. I should get back to him.”

  “Have him join us,” Quintin offers.

  “I would, but he’s had a long day with his father,” I comment. “Plus, Paul’s birthday is tomorrow, so we have a little planning to finish.”

  “You sure?” Quintin inquires as if he’s hoping I’ll stay.

  “Yes,” I answer curtly.

  “Thank you for all of your help, my love,” Quintin states, moving toward me. “I can’t wait to get your final approval once Marco has finished them.”

  “Looking forward to it,” I lie.

  “Boris,” Quintin calls.

  “Yes, Mr. Carroll,” he inquires just a few seconds later.

  “Laurie is heading home, please escort her,” Quintin directs.

  “I’ll be fine,” I state. “I don’t mind the walk. The dogs and I could u
se it. We haven't been able to be outside as much with all of the rain. They could use a good run to the house.”

  “Are you sure?” Quintin pries.

  “Yes, thank you,” I return.

  “Sure thing,” Quintin replies.

  “Just make sure the boys know not to go into the woods,” I joke.

  “Ha,” Quintin blurts. “That’s what I love about you, Laurie. Take a challenging situation from the past and twist it into a positive one.”

  I smile and nod.

  “Tell Paul happy birthday for me,” Quintin requests.

  “Sure,” I reply. “Thanks for asking for my help.”

  “Thank you for assisting,” Quintin replies, reaching his hands toward me again.

  I take his gesture, not wanting to let him know that something’s up. I lean forward, accepting the two kisses he places on either of my cheeks as he has since our third time getting together.

  As soon as I’m at the foot of the driveway, the dogs and I are jogging down the road toward the house. The reality of the situation plays over in my head concerning who’s known he was alive, and worse, working directly with Quintin. The Feds must have known which is why they insisted on me staying. I’m pissed at Becky for not telling me, but that’s not like her. Rage engulfs me like never before. I voice command my phone to text Becky that we need to talk and as soon as I’m past the point where Quintin and his goons can see me, my legs turn into a full on sprint to the house.

  The garage door is up, so I hit the panel to close it when I reach the door to the mud room. My skin feels like it’s on fire as my heart stomps in my chest. My lungs burn as if I’ve been running in below zero degree weather. I’m beyond angry. I’m livid, and my sights are narrowing on my closest target — Aiden.

  “Hey, Pix,” he greets, heading toward me from the monitors. “I couldn’t see where you were in the house, but I heard the tail end of the conversation. Did you….”

  “You fucking son of a bitch,” I shout, throwing a punch at Aiden’s face the moment I see him.

  “What the fuck, Pix?” Aiden asks, deflecting my blows.

  My arms continue to swing, clipping him on occasion as he backs away from me. “You fucking son of a bitch,” I repeat. “How long? How fucking long?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Aiden questions, not fighting back.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me,” I bark, trying to wrestle him to the ground. “How long have you fucking known?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, baby?” Aiden asks, doing his best not to hurt me while trying to prevent me from doing so to him.

  Aiden drops to one knee right after I graze his balls with my foot. When I kick again, he snatches my ankle and yanks me to the ground. We roll around for a few seconds, trying to outmaneuver the other, but he manages to pin me.

  “How fucking long have you known?” I repeat, still wiggling to break free.

  “Know what, Pix? I can’t answer you until you tell me what….”

  “Jack,” I shout.

  “Jack? What about Jack?” Aiden searches with confusion in his eyes.

  “You’ve know this whole time that he was alive, haven’t you!”

  “What?” Aiden gasps.

  “I’ll fucking kill you, and then I’m going to fucking kill him again, and this time I won’t fucking miss,” I declare.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Aiden questions. “Jack’s dead. You killed him.”

  “No, he’s not,” I snap, my eyes start to burn. “Jay is Jack. Jack is Jay.”

  “What?” Aiden says, sitting back on his heels, releasing me.

  “Quintin’s Jay is my ex-husband…Jack,” I state again, pushing him. “How the fuck is he alive? I pumped two bullets into him. How could you not tell me that he was alive?”

  “I didn’t know. I swear,” Aiden answers.

  My body begins to shake and tears blur my sight. “I swear to God, you better not be lying to me, Aiden.”

  “Pix…baby,” Aiden soothes. “I swear. I would have told you. I tell you everything now.”

  My head bobs, knowing that he’s telling me the truth. “Why hasn’t Becky said anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Aiden replies, pulling me into him. “I don’t know, baby. But, I’m going to find out.”

  My head bobs as I let out the years of anger, sadness, confusion, and fear. Aiden rocks me gently as the dogs surround us protectively. At some point, once my cries settle, I ask, “Does Paul know?”

  “He better not,” Aiden replies with hints of anger to his tone.

  “I need to leave,” I state. “I need to get Trudy and the Lenards to safety…they could be in danger.”

  “Did he recognize you?” Aiden asks suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Jack…did he recognize you?” he repeats.

  “No,” I reply. “I don’t think so. It didn’t appear that he did.”

  “What about when you recognized him? Did you let on to whoever was in the room know by reacting? Would he or Quintin have picked up on you being shocked at seeing him?”

  “I…I don’t think so,” I mutter. “I swore that my eyes were playing tricks on me at first…but watching him move, listening to him talk, and seeing him confirmed that it was…it is him.”

  “I’ll call Becky,” Aiden offers.

  “No need,” I inform. “I already texted her.”

  Aiden nods.

  “He thinks that it’s Paul’s birthday tomorrow, not yours,” I blurt.

  “What?”

  “I needed an excuse to get out of that house,” I say. “So, I said that Paul’s birthday is coming up and I needed to get back so we could finish making plans.”

  Aiden nods. “I’ll text him to come over so we can talk,” he replies.

  Aiden’s phone starts buzzing.

  “That’s him now,” Aiden confirms. He answers the phone while holding onto me. “Hey.”

  I faintly hear Pauls voice through the receiver.

  “She’s back,” Aiden confirms.

  Pauls voice mumbles.

  “You need to get over here,” Aiden directs. “The three of us need to talk. Now!”

  Fifty - Aiden

  I knew something was up by the way Laurie barged into the house from Quintin’s. When she called my name, my hunch was confirmed. It took some time to keep her at bay from attacking me and then a little more before I could get her to talk to me and let me know what was going on. With Paul on the way over, I get her to sit on the couch with the dogs while I made us some tea.

  “You okay, Pix,” I ask, handing her a mug.

  “Yeah,” she lies.

  I don’t press because I know it’ll only make matters worse.

  “We’ll find out what’s going on,” I promise.

  She half smiles and nods, but I know that her mind is still racing from everything that has just been revealed. Right as I get settled next to her, the house alarm goes off, announcing Paul's arrival.

  “Hey,” I greet as I open the door for Paul.

  “Hey, man,” Paul returns.

  “There are a few things the three of us need to discuss,” I share.

  “The three of us?” Paul checks, looking past my shoulder as we delay in the foyer.

  “Yeah,” I huff. “It’s not good.”

  “What do you mean?” Paul checks.

  “You’ll find out,” I mention. “Just stay calm and she will too.”

  “What happened?” Paul asks. “Did something happen over there? Did I miss something? I was just starting to check the feed from the point when we left for the range until now.”

  I lead Paul into the living room and offer him a beer, knowing that it’ll keep him calm.

  “I’m good, thanks,” he says, declining the beverage.

  “Trust me,” I insist.

  Paul eyes me, but nods and takes the beer.

  “Did he know?” Laurie asks, starting to get upset again.


  “What?” Paul replies confused.

  Laurie shakes her head after looking at me and I offer her a pleading expression.

  “Did you get a good look at Jay?” Paul inquires.

  Laurie’s eyes dart to him and narrow.

  “She did,” I offer.

  “Could you identify him if we ran faces by you?” Paul checks.

  “It’s more complicated than that,” I announce.

  “How is it complicated for her to look at photos?” Paul returns.

  “Because I know who the fuck Jay is,” Laurie quips.

  “Really?” Paul says excitedly.

  “Care to tell me if you’ve known all along?” Laurie pushes heatedly.

  “Pix,” I coax.

  She looks at me, rolls her eyes, and then returns her focus on Paul. I know she needs to see and hear it for herself from him.

  “What are you talking about?” Paul searches.

  “Laurie knows who Jay is…was…” I state. “She thinks that we’ve known and haven’t told her.”

  “Tell her what?” Paul asks dumbfounded.

  I look back and forth between him and Laurie, letting her gauge the situation.

  “How long have you known that Jay is Jack?” Laurie questions.

  “Jack? Jack who?” Paul asks.

  Laurie’s eyes narrow. “Jack…as in my ex-husband who I fucking killed Jack.”

  “He’s alive?” Paul gasps.

  “You didn’t know,” I say relieved when I see Paul’s reaction.

  “No,” Paul confirms. “Does Becky?”

  “Don’t know,” I reply. “We’re waiting for her to text or call Laurie back.”

  “Fuck,” Paul huffs and then chugs his beer. “This is not good.”

  “Tell me about it,” Laurie retorts.

  “Did he recognize you?” Paul asks.

  “No,” Laurie confirms more confidently this time.

  “You sure?” Paul presses.

  “The last time Jack saw me, I had long, brown hair, not a single tattoo and my body was not this lean and strong,” she states.

  “What about Quintin?” Paul asks nervously.

  “What about him?” Laurie returns.

  “Did he notice that you recognized Jack?” he says.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Laurie confirms.

  “Oh, he thinks your birthday is tomorrow,” I add, hoping to defuse some of the tension in the room.