by Abbi Cook
So he changed from a gun for hire killing strangers to a man killing women who sat in the same pew as he did every Sunday. Some spirituality that was.
Adam Anchoff is the same kind of hypocrite. One of God’s chosen people, he feels no guilt about hiring someone like me to kill his wife because she can’t produce the children he so desperately wants. Her life holds less importance to him, but because he’s a believer, it’s okay.
And I’m supposed to be the bad man.
That thought wanders through my mind, followed by one about what Samson found out about Lauren Tarrigan a few hours ago. I’d held out little hope for that news to be good, but still I would have liked to be able to tell Natalie her sister was fine and living on that beach she mentioned.
More hypocrisy courtesy of supposedly pious people. How Natalie turned out so good and so gentle truly amazes me considering the people who’ve surrounded her for so long.
The garage door slowly rises, and a moment later, Adam backs out onto the street. I’d expected him to leave at some point and I’m happy to see it since I won’t take him out at the house for the same reason I told him I wouldn’t kill Natalie there. She doesn’t need that hassle from the cops. She’s already going to be the first person they look to since she’s the spouse. Having an alibi won’t give her an automatic out, but it will help. Still, she doesn’t need the added problem of him being murdered in the house they shared.
I considered taking the extra step and eliminating the body altogether, but she doesn’t deserve to be left in limbo with suspicious eyes always leering at her for the rest of her life because Adam is never found. She’ll get the closure she needs from his death.
As for Anchoff, he’ll get what he deserves too.
He doesn’t suspect anyone’s following him as we drive down the street, my car far enough behind that I’m nothing but another person on the road at this time of night. As he turns left at the intersection in town, I know where he’s going.
Where I’d always suspected he’d end up tonight. The girlfriend’s.
I let myself wonder about why he waited so long as I ride along, the air conditioning blowing at me to dispel the humid summer night heat. Maybe he waited for Natalie to return?
Stupid man.
She’s left you for someone else, Anchoff. Women with a man waiting in the wings don’t come back.
He pulls into a parking spot in a dark corner of the lot near the side-chick’s apartment building, and I silently thank fate for the stroke of luck. I’d considered letting him get one last easy lay in with her when I planned this yesterday, but after seeing the bruises and scratches on Natalie’s face, that tiny shred of humanity disappeared.
Sorry, dickhead. You’ll just have to miss out on that final fuck.
I turn off my car and wait to see him walk away from his. I don’t usually create elaborate set-ups to kill someone. I choose my time, take aim, and do the job. That’s one of the reasons I’m so good at this.
For Adam Anchoff, though, I’ll make an exception. Tonight, I’ll toy with my victim before I take him out.
He doesn’t hear me behind him as he walks in the darkness across the parking lot, an overhead light conveniently burned out as if the universe wants me to be able to do this to him. A quick scan of the cars around us tells me we’re alone, so after a few more steps toward the building, I lift my arm and slam my gun onto the back of his head. He falls like a stack of bricks at my feet, out cold.
Now to get him where I can have some fun with him.
His eyes slowly open, and he lifts his head, still groggy from being knocked out. Tied up to a chair in a strange place, he has no idea what’s happened or where he is.
That isn’t information he needs to understand what will happen tonight.
He focuses on my face in front of him and grimaces. “What the hell did you do to me?”
“Not much yet,” I say with a chuckle from my spot on the sofa.
An attempt to move his arms alerts him to the fact that they’re tied behind him at the wrists. Soon his shoulders will begin to ache from the position I’ve put him in, but he won’t be in that pain for too long.
I’ve got somewhere else to be tonight, somewhere far better than here with him.
“What is this?” he asks as he struggles against the ropes, to no avail.
“This is what I promised would happen, Adam. I was very clear in my warning to you. I told you not to touch her again. Not a few hours after that, you did exactly what I told you not to. It’s like you didn’t hear a word I said at your office,” I say, waving around my hand holding the gun to make my point.
Shaking his head, he can’t understand that I’m the type of man who follows through on his threats. I told him I’d kill him if he touched her again, and I will. Not before I torture him a little, though.
I always was the type of kid who liked to play with his food before he ate it.
He opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. What is he going to say? That she provoked him? I don’t care. That she’s cheating on him? That I do care about, but I’m not exactly the man to complain about that to.
There’s nothing he can say that can justify hurting Natalie the way he did. I warned him what would happen if he did, and then he went ahead and did it anyway.
And now he’ll die.
“What do you need to kill me for now? You have what you want. You get nothing from shooting me,” he says, trying to convince me of something I can’t be convinced of.
I want to kill this fuck. I’ve waited for this moment.
“I get the pleasure of killing you, Adam. What else do I need?” I ask before setting the gun down on the coffee table in front of me.
“Did she pay you to kill me? Is that it?”
His eyes flash the rage he still has inside him whenever he thinks of Natalie. That’s the logical reason he has to die. Beyond the pleasure I’ll get from this and the closure she’ll get from knowing he’s gone from this world, the fact is that anger he has inside him for her will never go away as long as he’s alive. And as long as that rage exists, she’ll always be in danger.
I can’t have that.
“No, she didn’t have to pay me. She didn’t even ask me to kill you. Personally, I think that shows she’s far too kind, but that’s just me.”
“She’ll never forgive you,” he says confidently as he shakes his head in disbelief. “She is that kind person, and that type doesn’t forgive killing.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. He really has no idea about the woman he lived with for all those years.
“Do you honestly think that’s true? You obviously don’t understand women, least of all Natalie. They’ll take a lot from a man, but once they’re done, they’re done.”
He continues to shake his head as if none of this is true. Stupid man.
“I can tell you the moment she was done with you, Adam. The second she met me on the side of the road when I stopped to change her tire. Something so small made such a big impression. Her husband would never change a tire for her, but all it took was another man doing that tiny thing to make her realize she wanted someone like that.”
“You were supposed to kill her,” he mumbles in disgust.
Leaning back, I nod at his statement of the obvious and add to it. “Instead I’ll kill you. Then I’ll give your long suffering wife the two hundred thousand grand. Maybe I’ll buy her a house in Tuscany. She’d like that.”
A look of confusion comes over him. That singular place on Earth where she’d love to go on her dream vacation and he has no idea of its significance to her.
“You know nothing about Natalie. You never bothered to find out. All you ever cared about was her ability to make babies.”
“Well, that’s something you won’t get from her either,” he says with such smugness that I have to fight the urge to just shoot him in the fucking head and be done with this.
“That’s okay. I don’t need a woman to be a baby m
aking machine. I’m happy with just fucking her as I’ve been for the past few weeks. Who wants a kid ruining that?”
He’s got nothing to say to that, but it’s obvious by the look of rage on his face that hearing the news she’s been with another man is eating him up inside. Good. Time to make him suffer more.
I look around and spread my arms wide along the back of the sofa. “You know, right here is where we’ve usually been getting together. The first time I went down on her she was sitting right where I am. Fuck, she tastes like heaven, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? No, you were so busy trying to get that all important child from her that you never bothered to taste that pussy. Big mistake, man. I’m telling you, she tastes like fucking heaven on your tongue.”
His face turns bright red, and I can’t decide if it’s from anger or embarrassment. Can’t tell with these religious prigs. It only makes me want to share more about my time with Natalie here in the apartment.
Pointing toward the far wall, I smile as the memory of her down on her knees rolls through my head. “And right over there is where she gave me a blowjob that nearly took my head off. I know it was the first she’d ever given since she told me. Trust me, Adam, you have no idea what you’re missing. Fuck, that mouth is nearly magical. I knew it from the first time I saw her picture. Tell me, how can you have such a beautiful woman crazy about you and not have her suck your cock? It’s like you don’t have a fucking clue as to how being a man works.”
Now his red face morphs into an expression of pure pain. Maybe I tightened the ropes too much around his wrists and ankles and all that struggling against them is hurting. Or maybe hearing the woman you thought was devoted to you has been giving your tormentor head is agony.
I don’t care which is hurting him. As long as he’s in pain, I’m good.
“Shut up! You have no idea what she did for me.”
Shrugging since I don’t really care, I let the air out of my lungs in disgust. “Nothing much, I’m thinking. She’s an incredible woman in bed, and all you ever fucking did was get on top of her and worry about getting your fucking sperm into her. I bet you guys never did anything other than missionary, didn’t you? Fuck. If you were going to live past tonight, I’d say they’re going to take your man card for that. That’s all you do with that side piece too. You religious freaks are really something. Two women are willing to fuck a guy who looks like you, and you go straight missionary all the time. Unbelievable.”
Suddenly, he flashes me a cocky look that seems completely out of place. “Did I get something wrong?” I ask.
“Not two. Three. And the third one is how I know it was Natalie’s fault that we didn’t have kids. Barren bitch.”
I have to admit his confession surprises me. Leaning forward, I study his expression to see if he’s telling the truth or bullshitting. He looks like he honestly means what he’s saying.
“So you have a kid already? Then why the fuck did you want to kill Natalie in the first place? You have what you always wanted.”
That same petulant look he got on his face that first time he came to see me makes him look like a spoiled child now. His mouth screwed into a sullen pout, he says, “No, I don’t. That was another screw up courtesy of one of Elizabeth Tarrigan’s daughters. If only I’d chosen Tess. At least she’s obedient.”
“You’re the person who killed Lauren, aren’t you?”
With a shrug, he answers, “Not intentionally. She was pregnant with my kid, after all. It’s not like I’d just kill her after finding out that. But leave it to Lauren to freak out. She was so much like Natalie. All she had to do was relax, but once she found out what Elizabeth and I had done, she lost it. I tried to calm her down and it went too far.”
Sickened by his confession, I still can’t stop myself from asking, “What did you two do to her?”
“Elizabeth was going to ruin everything because Natalie couldn’t get pregnant. I told her it wasn’t my fault. She was defective, but her mother wouldn’t believe me. So I told her I could prove it. She gave Lauren that drink she used on all the girls to get them to perform for men who came to the house to bid on them, and I proved to her the problem wasn’t with me. It took a few times, but Lauren got pregnant. But she heard her mother and me talking about it and started acting like a crazy woman. Screaming and yelling about going to the cops. I just wanted to shut her up. She wouldn’t stop with that screaming about how they would put us both in jail for the rest of our lives because she was only sixteen. I just covered her mouth to stop her, but something happened. Before I knew it, she was limp in my arms.”
I’d known the basic outlines of Lauren’s death from what Samson discovered, but Adam’s story nearly takes my breath away. “So you drugged your underage sister-in-law, raped her, impregnated her, and then killed her, along with your unborn child. You’re a real winner, Anchoff.”
“Says the man who kills people for a living.”
“I don’t fuck little girls to prove my sperm is good. I don’t drug anyone so I can fuck them either. Some religion you have that allows all of this.”
“It was an accident. I wanted that baby. It would have been the child I was promised I’d have when I married Natalie.”
This was all fun and games when I was tormenting him with stories about how much I fucked his wife, but now I’m done. I can’t listen to any more of what this shit has done to Natalie and her family.
Grabbing my gun off the table, I stand up and stuff it behind me in the waistband of my pants. Shooting this son of a bitch would be enjoyable, but I need to stick to the plan. Natalie needs to be blameless for his death.
I walk away toward the bathroom while Adam asks, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me here. You don’t have to kill me. Keep her for yourself. I won’t contest a divorce. She can take whatever she wants. I won’t stand in her way.”
No, you won’t, Adam.
Inside the top drawer of the vanity sits the weapon that will take this motherfucker out of this world tonight. I lift the syringe out and examine it, pulling the plunger back to let in air to the barrel. It’s a simple method of death but works to make it look like someone died of a heart attack or stroke.
Hiding it behind my back, I walk back out into the living room and stand behind Anchoff. His head swivels back and forth while he tries to figure out what I’m about to do to him, all the while promising everything under the sun to stay alive.
I grab the top of his head with my left hand, palming it like a basketball, and squeeze to keep him immobile. He can’t stop pleading for his life, but it’s no use.
The time has come.
“Don’t do this. I swear I’ll never bother her again. You don’t have to do this.”
His voice becomes more frantic with every word as utter panic takes over. I tune it out until all I hear is the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears like whenever I kill someone. It’s steady and strong, hypnotic in its rhythm.
The soundtrack to Adam Anchoff’s end.
I stick his neck with the needle and slowly push the air into the carefully chosen vein. He tries to thrash around, but I’m stronger. Years of sitting behind a desk doing that job of his has made him weaker than a man should be.
Second after second ticks by while air invades his vein, slowly and painfully killing him. It’s not as efficient as a shot to the head, but in some ways, it’s far more enjoyable than I thought his death would be.
His arms tied, he can’t use them to push me away. After a minute or so, I remove the needle and release my hold on his head. I walk around to stand in front of him to watch the final moments of his life pass, happy to know the last image he has before meeting that maker he believes in is me.
It’s all over in a matter of minutes, bloodless and cleaner than most of my kills. I carry him out to my car unseen and put him into the trunk before driving back to the parking lot where he left his car. It takes no time at all to sit him behind the wheel, and then I close the driver’s side door.
> I step back to take one last look at Adam Anchoff and shake my head. “Your mistake was thinking I was like my father. Tell him I said hello when you see him.”
Chapter Fifty
Natalie
The smell of coffee brewing wakes me, and I check my phone to see it's nearly eight o'clock. Alexei called six times. God, I must have been exhausted last night. Not surprising after all that happened yesterday. I look down at the blue book I hold in my hands and the memory of how angry I felt last night comes rushing back to me.
I march down the stairs to find my mother and finally have the conversation about my sister we should have had months ago. She's sitting in the breakfast nook reading the paper, so I pour myself a cup of coffee to help me shake the sleep from my brain and sit down ready to have this talk with her.
Before I can begin, though, she lowers the newspaper and with a steely gaze, looks across the table at me. "You need to go home, Natalie. You need to work things out with your husband."
Everything I planned to say to her about what I found out about Lauren being pregnant leaves my brain in an instant, replaced by shock at her sudden pronouncement. What happened to the supportive mother who offered me warm milk and a chance to talk just over twelve hours ago?
"What? I'm not going home."
Her expression hardens. "You need to go home and talk to Adam. This can all work out for you."
"What makes you think that? He choked me, attacked me, and set up cameras around the house to watch my every move because he doesn't trust me. What's there to talk about?" I ask, still stunned by her decision to send me back home.
"I have no doubt Adam will be a different man after a night without his wife."
How she could think that is beyond me. He's made no effort to call my mother's to find me, which should have been the first place he looked. Or did he?