by Abbi Cook
So be it. Today, he and I will talk. But in the very near future, my interest in talking will end.
And so will his life.
I’ve waited until everyone left for lunch so it’s just the two of us. I don’t need any collateral damage in case things get out of hand. I don’t plan on finishing him off right now, but desperate men like him can be unpredictable.
My hand presses against my lower back where my gun rests as I walk down the hallway. With every step, I fight my urge to end this whole bullshit thing that began that night he came to see me with the job to kill his wife. It wouldn’t take much. One to the head and he’d be gone.
And she’d be free to be with me.
Maybe I will kill him today.
I stop in front of his office and look in at him sitting behind a large antique desk. It makes him look far more important than he truly is, and unlike every other time I’ve seen him, I have to admit he looks like the kind of man who may intimidate someone.
Assuming they were naïve and had everything to lose if he chose to hurt them.
I’m not that kind of person, though. My days of being naïve are years behind me, and he’s powerless to take anything or anyone from me.
Now we’ll see what happens when he has to deal with a man who’s crossed him.
“So this is what enables you to be a member of that country club?” I ask dismissively as I lean against the doorway to his office.
He looks up and glares at me. “I knew you were there that day. How did you get in?”
I roll my eyes at that comment. As if only people like him, middle-manager types, are allowed into country clubs.
“My family has been members for years. In fact, my mother reminded me that I saw you many years ago when you first began to bring your wife out to the club. You didn’t give a damn about her back then either.”
Narrowing his eyes, he struggles to keep his rage under control but his hands shake against the papers on his desk. “You have no idea what I felt for my wife, then or now.”
“You didn’t give a fuck about her then, and now you want her dead. What exactly don’t I understand?”
“You’re not exactly someone worthy of judging me on anything I do with Natalie. You kill people for a living, so excuse me if I don’t feel bad about your opinion on my marriage.”
Whatever he thinks he’s achieving with trying to insult me on my career choice misses the mark, of course. I’m not a reluctant killer. Maybe he’s confused because I won’t kill the one person he wants dead, but he shouldn’t misunderstand my motives when it comes to the likes of him.
Taking a step into his office, I stop and look around at the room. Nothing special, just like its occupant. One door, likely to a bathroom. Windows that look out onto woods.
“I’m here to tell you whatever you’re doing with Natalie, you need to stop. This isn’t going to end the way you want it to, but if you hurt her in even the tiniest way again, you won’t live another day after. This is your only warning, Adam.”
He sits back in his chair and stares across the room at me for a few moments, like he’s trying to process what I just said to him. Finally, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before he speaks.
“Are you sleeping with her? Is that why you haven’t done the job I paid you two hundred thousand dollars for?”
“I’ve given you your warning. Consider yourself lucky. Others haven’t been as fortunate. Leave her alone. Don’t touch her. Don’t leave another mark on her body. Don’t think I won’t do to you what you wanted me to do to her.”
A smile spreads across his face, surprising me. “So you are sleeping with her. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. She’s not the person you think. I bet you believe she’s all pure and innocent, but you’re wrong.”
“Shut up.”
“Did she tell you about those nightmares and visions she’s been having? I can’t be sure, but I think it’s from the drugs, believe it or not. I thought all they did was sand down the rough edges, so to speak, but her mother thinks it’s something more.”
I listen to him brag about using drugs to manipulate Natalie and want to kill him before another fucking word comes out of that mouth of his. She’s afraid she’s going insane, and he’s doing nothing to let her know it’s not that at all.
“Gaslighting her while you wait for a hit man to get rid of her for you. Nice.”
“Like you’re one to judge. I don’t take condemnation from killers, even ones who belong to the country club I do.”
“She won’t be taking any more of your refocusing drugs. She knows what you’re up to with that shit.”
Adam rolls his eyes. “Like I’m the only one who’s ever done that to her. Her mother used that stuff on her all her life. It’s how she and I got together, for God’s sake.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Why would her mother give her that stuff?” I ask as the idea that she’s been drugged by her own mother makes me hate this Church of Genesis bullshit even more.
With a shrug, he answers, “For the same reason I did. Young girls are a little too high strung for most purposes, so you have to do something to make them calm down. Elizabeth Tarrigan had four girls to marry off, but she’d never get anyone to take them if she didn’t keep them in line.”
I don’t know what to say to this. Does he mean what I think he means?
“How old were Natalie and her sisters when they married all of you fine men?”
“She was almost nineteen. With Claire and Tess, Elizabeth decided she didn’t want to wait that long, so they were barely eighteen. As for Lauren, well, she never made it past sixteen.”
“You talk about all of you marrying young girls like it’s a business deal. Then again, that’s how you described it to me, so maybe that’s all it was. I guess they would have to be drugged to get through that,” I say, disgusted by all he’s saying.
“Your father never disapproved. He more than once sampled the girls offered to the Church of Genesis members. I’m sort of surprised he never brought you around to do the same.”
Shaking my head, I can’t believe this. “Are you saying her mother pimped them out after drugging them?”
“Not Natalie, no. And not Claire because Albert was crazy about her from the second he laid eyes on her. Tess, though, definitely. I’m not even sure those kids are her husband’s Elizabeth offered her up so often. She had to get her married to Carl as soon as possible or she would have been giving birth six months after the honeymoon. And by the time she got to Lauren, she had already been giving out samples of her by the time she went missing.”
I listen in disgust, and when he mentions Natalie’s youngest sister who ran away a second time, I recognize a familiar look in his eyes. I saw that look a hundred times in my father’s eyes when he knew something damning about someone or some situation.
Not that this asshole would tell me what he knows about her disappearance.
“Do you hear yourself when you talk about Natalie and her sisters? Are they just property to be transferred from her mother to men they marry?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.
Adam Anchoff isn’t just a man who wants his wife dead because she can’t give him babies. He’s a man who never gave a damn about his wife, and whether or not she could give birth has nothing to do with it.
He shakes his head, like I’m some foolish idiot who can’t understand something as complex as what he and the rest of those Church of Genesis jackasses believe. I spent enough time with my father when he was neck deep in that bullshit to know what Anchoff is thinking.
“I didn’t start all of this, so don’t bother lecturing me. Talk to her mother. She’s the one who put them all up for sale. If she could have gotten all of them married off when I took Natalie off her hands, she would have, and the others were barely teenagers by that time. And don’t blame my religion for this. That’s not where she got her ideas from.”
“Typical. I remember my father and wha
t he told me about your religion,” I say, practically spitting that last word from my mouth. “You guys have a real problem with women, it seems.”
“We simply think women have a certain place in the world. Stop acting like you don’t think the same thing. You were more than happy to take my money to kill Natalie. All we really want is women to make our lives better and not give us more hassles after we work hard every day. It’s nothing very different from most people.”
“Fucking medieval,” I mumble under my breath, done with this conversation. “I came here to tell you not to touch her again. You get one warning. Put your hands on that side chick of yours if you have to, but don’t touch Natalie again. If I find out you did, I’ll be back and I won’t be talking next time.”
I turn to leave and behind me he says, “I want my two hundred thousand back. You didn’t do the job, so I want my money back.”
Without looking back, I laugh. “People in hell want ice water. Remember what I said, Adam. Don’t touch her again.”
“She’s not what you think, Wolfe. She’s totally fooled you, and when you find out, it will be too late. The two of you deserve one another.”
The words of a man who’s lost to another man don’t concern me, so I stroll out and walk to my car as what Anchoff said about Natalie’s sister rolls around in my head. Something’s wrong there. I know that look. I saw it on my father far too many times not to understand Adam Anchoff knows something about his sister-in-law’s disappearance.
I call Samson to see what he can find out. “I want to know everything you can about the disappearance of Lauren Tarrigan. All you told me when you researched Natalie and that idiot husband of hers was she went missing a few months back. Now I want you to find out everything there is to know about her and what happened to her.”
“A missing teenage girl? That doesn’t sound like a story that’s going to end happily, Alexei.”
The look in Adam Anchoff’s eyes when he talked about Lauren made me think the same thing. I just hope Samson and I are wrong, for Natalie’s sake.
“Whatever the story is, I want to know and fast. She’s been missing for a few months already. Her sisters deserve to find out what happened to her. Get on it and call me when you find out anything.”
Samson sighs, and I imagine him shrugging at my order. “Okay, but that might mean I have to leave my post here keeping an eye on her house. She’s gone, though, so that probably won’t be much of an issue. I had planned on getting inside and fucking up that security system of Anchoff’s, though. Which one do you want me on first?”
“Handle the security system first, and then get on finding out where Lauren Tarrigan went to.”
“Okay, boss. Do you want me back here tonight after she gets back?”
I know Natalie is at her therapist’s today, so Samson being gone from watching the house all afternoon doesn’t present a problem. What might happen tonight when Adam returns is a different story.
Unfortunately, I don’t think he got the point of my visit today, so I don’t know what he’ll do today when he gets home. He’s lost control, and from all I can see in him, he’s not taking it well. My threat may not have made the impact I anticipated it would.
I almost hope it didn’t. I’m itching to rid the fucking world of that asshole. I just hope Natalie doesn’t have to suffer anymore before she decides it’s time to come to me.
“Yeah, I want you watching the house tonight again. I’m hoping it will be the last time you have to do that.”
That catches Samson by surprise, and I hear him hum before he asks, “Is this job almost finished then?”
Looking back at the building where Adam Anchoff sits in his office, I nod. “I think so. Time’s almost up.”
I end the call and stuff my phone into my jacket. Time’s almost up, and Adam Anchoff doesn’t even know he’s in the last hours of his life.
But then again, that’s how it always is. One minute you’re alive and living your life, and the next minute, you’re gone. Game over. Why would his end be any different?
With one last glance at his office, I climb into my car and leave the parking lot. In my rearview mirror, I see him standing at the front door glaring at me as I drive away. He wants to lash out at me, to wrestle back some of that control he’s all but lost.
Stupid man. He thinks I took it off him, but that’s only half the story.
Natalie took the rest. He can’t admit that, though, or he’d have to admit she’s far more than just a shell to carry children and obey his whims.
Even now, he refuses to see that fact. His loss.
Chapter Forty-Four
Natalie
My mouth has not a single ounce of saliva as I wait for the receptionist to call me for my session with Dr. Trevino. What if he doesn't feel he can be my therapist anymore after what Adam said to him? What if the fact that I've been lying to him about who I am all this time breaks some professional code he follows and now he doesn't want to treat me because of that?
A feeling of dread settles into my brain. I have an excuse for why I lied, but maybe he won't care. That I lied will be enough to deny me his help. I wish I knew what Adam said to him. At least then I'd know what to anticipate instead of expecting the worst.
"Lauren Tarrigan."
The receptionist calls out my name, well, my fake name that’s part of my life of lies, interrupting my thinking about how bad it's going to be. I hurry to join her at the door leading to the doctor's office, avoiding her gaze because I'm convinced she knows everything about my deception. He isn't waiting for me, so she instructs me to sit down and he'll be in shortly.
More time to unravel over what's to come.
When he finally does walk in, I watch to see any sign of him acting differently than before, but I can't tell. Maybe the fact that he doesn't speak to me immediately is a sign. Maybe it's not. My mind races round and round as I wait for him to say anything to me.
"How are you today?" he asks, sounding very much like he always sounds. At least I think he does.
I press my lips together to stop the words in my head from spilling out prematurely. After a few seconds of him staring at me and waiting for an answer, I say, "I'm okay. Thank you for seeing me today."
He doesn't respond immediately, which makes me begin to spiral out of control again, but then I see him grab his notepad and pen. Maybe he's still preparing for our session. God, this is an emotional rollercoaster on the very day I can't handle the ride.
"So what would you like to talk about today?" he asks innocently enough.
I scan his face for any hint about what Adam may have said to him. Why hasn't he started our session with that? It surely can't be normal for a patient's husband to call their doctor and demand he not treat her anymore. Or maybe Adam said something worse and the therapist doesn't feel right discussing it.
All of this bounces around in my brain before I blurt out, "I know my husband called you, Dr. Trevino. I'm sorry about that. And I'm sorry about not telling you the truth about who I am. I didn't want to deceive you, but I was worried about my husband finding out I was seeing you. Now that he knows, I hope you can forgive me for that and for whatever he said to you."
And there, in a rush of words, I finally tell the truth. The old adage about the truth setting you free really is right. While I certainly hope Dr. Trevino wants to still treat me, I'm so relieved to finally have told him the truth about everything. I feel like a real weight has been lifted off me, and I sit up straighter.
I watch his eyes narrow to slits, but he doesn't look angry so much as confused. I'm sure he has a lot of questions now that the truth is out. As I wait to hear each one of them, I take a deep breath and let my shoulders sag as I release the air from my lungs.
"Lauren, I haven't heard from anyone claiming to be your husband."
Ah, there's his confusion. "That's because my name is Natalie. Tarrigan is my maiden name, though, so that wasn't a complete lie."
I expect to see a look
of recognition come over him at hearing my real name, but he still looks confused. What could Adam have said to him?
"I'm not sure what you mean, Lauren. Are we talking about one of your waking dreams or nightmares?"
"No. I'm trying to explain why I lied to you about my name. My husband doesn't approve of anything like therapy or counseling, so I couldn't tell you who I really am. Now he knows, so I wanted to clear the air and hope that you'll still want to be my doctor, even though I lied."
Dr. Trevino's expression grows dark, but he nods, which I hope is a good sign. I don't think he's the type of person to fly off the handle, like Adam, but he may not want to treat a patient who can't be truthful with him.
"The foundation of therapy, the bedrock of everything that happens between a doctor and his patient, is trust. I trust that you want to get better, and you trust that I want to help facilitate that. If you lied to me about something, that trust is damaged."
Just as I thought, he doesn't get angry or yell, but each measured word that comes out of his mouth is just as painful to deal with as another man's screaming or threatening. I shrink in my chair at his gentle yet clear admonition, hating how I've damaged the trust he had in me.
I lower my head because I don't want to face him. "I'm sorry, Dr. Trevino. I can't say I didn't mean to lie. That wouldn't be the truth. I felt I had to because I didn't want my husband to find out about me coming here. You see, he hates anything that has to do with psychology or the mind. He was furious when he found out."
As I stare at my hands folded in my lap, I wait for the doctor to say something, but he remains silent. Afraid he's about to tell me our work in therapy has to end, I look up and continue with my explanation. "But I want to keep trying to figure out what's going on with me. I'm sorry I lied. I'm prepared to tell you the whole truth right now, and if you'll forgive me, I promise to always be honest from this point on. Who I am is really the only thing I lied about. Everything else—the nightmares, the hallucinations, and everything I described in them—all of that was the absolute truth."