Killer Love

by Goode, Ella

  “I prefer my men to be alive.” I laugh, almost choking on my piece of cake. I prefer my man alive, too. Some others not so much. I take another bite of my cake, wondering what Lucas is up to right now. I should text him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lucas

  It’s fifteen past ten when my Angel alert goes off. I ease off the rope of Chad’s neck. “Saved by the literal bell,” I joke and get to my feet.

  Miss you babe. Hope you’re not eating all the Doritos. I know you eat like hell when I’m not there.

  I’ve decided against eating until you return.

  I never eat while I’m working.

  “Are you fucking texting someone?” Chad rasps from his chair behind his desk. We’re in his home office and it’s very cozy with dark paneling, a large wooden desk and a window with a privacy panel. There’s a large sofa across from the desk. The blue light I ran over it before Chad got home showed a number of fluids on the surface. I avoided it.

  I spare him a slight glance away from my screen. “I am.”

  “What kind of sick motherfucker are you? You killed Washington, didn’t you?”

  “No. That was you.” I tap my gloved finger against the envelope I brought. “You’ve killed approximately thirty people for the last ten years or so. A very busy man you’ve been.”

  “That’s bullshit. I’ve never killed a person in my entire life.”

  “You’re right. This list doesn’t even begin to enumerate your offenses and the people you hurt. After you got off the pedophile from Martin County, he went on to molest three other children. The abuser you got acquitted in Capital City killed his wife and two kids.”

  “How are those deaths my fault? I was just doing my job!”

  “And so am I.” Shakespeare was right. To start with, we should kill all the lawyers.

  The one my mom hired to get her away from her abuser did no good. I let him live but killed the man who hurt her. The man’s death was the only one I hadn’t planned. I was young with a bad temper and hadn’t paid enough attention in biology class to realize I could kill someone with a blow to the head. It was that man’s death that sent me back to the books.

  Can I ask what you’re doing so I don’t worry?

  I cock my head and study Chad. How should I explain myself to Angel so that she can sleep well tonight? There’s sweat pouring off his face and his eyes are slightly pronounced. His hands dangle uselessly at his sides. This is one of the dullest ways to kill someone and for Chad, a man who has harassed my wife and made her afraid to walk out to her car, an easy death. I should be pounding his face in with his golf cleats until his chin turns to mush. I can’t, though, because it’d be obvious he didn’t kill himself.

  I’m cleaning house.

  Don’t work too hard.

  I won’t. I love you. I add a heart emoji for emphasis.

  I love you. Be safe.

  I tuck the phone back into my pocket and grab the coil of rope on my way back to Chad.

  He jerks away and blabbers, “I’m sorry I talked to your wife. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I crouch down in front of him. “For a famed defense attorney, you aren’t being very persuasive. You’ve said that fifty-two times tonight.”

  “You’re a sick fuck,” he cries as I place the rope around his neck. “Why are you tormenting me? Just get it over with.”

  Hand around the knot, I pause before tightening it and say, “Before you were pleading with me not to hurt you and promised me a lot of money if I would let you go.”

  “Money isn’t working, is it? Tell me what it is that you want. You want a girl you can knock around? You have a kink you need to work out, I can find someone. No matter what it is.”

  “What if it’s this?” I jerk the noose tight.

  Chad’s eyes water. “Yeah. Yeah,” he chokes out.

  “Not interested. I have everything I need and you’re endangering it. You should’ve never talked to my wife. Never looked at her. Never touched her. Those are the rules.” I rise, dragging his body with me. He’s forced to stand, his feet scrambling to find purchase but Chad spends more time on his ass and he’s got no strength.

  “You never told me. If I had known—“

  The rope cuts him off. I whip it over the beam in his ceiling and pull it down, wrenching his body up. He makes some noise, probably more threats and promises, which I ignore. As if I needed to tell anyone what the rules are. Angel’s got a ring on her finger. I made my claim years ago. Before leaving, I double-check everything with my blue light, stick the suicide note in the top drawer for the good detectives to find and leave.

  As the door closes behind me, I text my wife.

  Am going to bed. Sleep well. I love you.

  She doesn’t text back but it doesn’t matter. I strip off the gloves and burn them half way to my car that I parked a mile away. The rubber smells acrid, but the biodegradable gloves disintegrate quickly, leaving only a pile of ash. My efforts to make our office more green pay off in so many ways. I return home, quickly wash and then get into the car. It takes only a short time before I’m out in front of Angel’s sister’s house. The lights are out. I check the front door and am pleased to find it’s locked. The back door is secured, too. Reassured with my wife’s safety, I climb back into the car, lower the seat and close my eyes.

  Angel is safe. The suicide letter confesses to the killings, complete with details that aren’t in the files. There is no evidence, other than the bodies. Sanchez and Lee will have to apply to have those bodies exhumed, but the counties won’t want to pay for it. Instead, the prosecutors will be happy with the confession and the cases will be closed. Perhaps they will always suspect me but there won’t be anything they can do. Some people need killing and so I will be there to render the judgment that the courts and the police can’t. I’m only keeping the balance—and my wife safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Angel

  “Lucas.” I call my husband’s name as I enter through the side door of the house. I’d forgotten my briefcase and was already running late. I was a little surprised he hadn’t left for work already.

  “Angel.” He comes strolling in the kitchen dressed for work in a pair of slacks and simple button-up shift.

  “Forgot this.” I grab my bag from off the chair, setting it on the bar stool.

  “I was about to text you about it. You know I would have brought it to you.” He walks over, pulling me into his arms, kissing me. “Missed you last night. It’s hard to sleep without you.” I smile against his mouth. I don’t ask if it was his car I saw early this morning parked a little ways down from my sister’s.

  I think the whole Chad thing has him on edge. I’m finding my husband can become a whole other person when it comes to me. It should likely scare me but it does the opposite. It makes me feel protected and loved.

  “We can make it up tonight. Unless you’re working late.” I try and hide the disappointment that he might be working late tonight. I know we only spent one night apart but I miss him. I always enjoy catching up with my sister but I love being home with Lucas.

  “I promise I’ll be home tonight.” He cups my face, tilting my head back to kiss me deeply. I sigh into his mouth. My bag drops from my hands as I start to wrap around him. With a grunt, Lucas pulls back from our kiss. You’d think we’d been apart for months with the way we’re acting, not just one night.

  “I'd take you on the counter right now, Angel, but I know you don’t like being late for work.”

  “Crap!” Lucas bends down, picking up my bag for me. “I love you.” I give him a quick peck before I dash for the door.

  “Don’t speed!” I hear him bark behind me. I jump into the car, luckily making it to court on time. The first hearing is slow and boring. I welcome it compared to some of the others we’ve had over the past few months. I look at my docket and cringe when I see Chad’s name on it. Dread fills me knowing that I’ll have to see him after our lunch break.

&n
bsp; Lovely. I really need to talk to Lucas about finding another job. I know he’ll support me but for some reason I feel ashamed that I can’t hack it here. My husband spends his day dealing with death. All I have to do is listen to cases and record them. It’s nothing compared to what he has to do on a daily basis.

  I pack up to drop my stuff in Judge Barnes’ office like I do most days. She’s already in there eating the salad that she packed.

  “Shut the door,” she tells me, wiping her mouth. “Court’s cancelled this afternoon.” Relief fills me. Not only do I get to go home early, I don’t have to see Chad. This would actually be the perfect time to sneak over to the pharmacy. I need to pick up a pregnancy test. I’m late this month. Not by much but usually my period comes like clockwork. It’s probably delayed due to the work stress that I’ve been under but taking a test will let me know for sure. “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what? I’ve been in court with you all day.” I laugh, coming over to sit down in the chair in front of her desk.

  “Chad Dering killed himself last night.”

  My stomach drops. “Killed himself?” I repeat. I didn’t think men like Chad killed themselves. They are too full of themselves to ever do something like that. Mary leans forward and I know she’s slipping more into friend mode than judge. Working together for years, it was hard to not become close. More so when we’ve had to listen to some of the worst cases together. We needed to lean on each other from time to time. I’m sure it’s against all kinds of rules but the things we say to one another never leave this room.

  “They are saying he left a note behind. Confessing to some murders. Some of them were his own clients.”

  “That’s--” I trail off because I don’t know how I feel about what Mary is telling me. I’ve always thought he was creepy but I never pinned him as a real murderer. I may have referred to him as one because he defended clients that did awful things, but I never thought he was running around killing people. It’s hard to wrap my mind around all of it. He killed his own clients.

  “I’ve heard whispers they’d already been investigating him. There are a bunch of unsolved murders they are trying to piece together. I guess all of the victims weren't upstanding members of the community. All of them had committed crimes and gotten away without paying for them at all or completing light sentences. No one was really searching too hard to find out who might have killed them but they all started to add up.” This still doesn't add up to me, but what do I know? I’m not a detective.

  “And Chad admitted in this letter it was him?”

  “Something like that.” She shrugs. “I’m sure we’ll hear more soon. The news will be picking it up any minute now.” Mary takes another bite of her salad, mumbling about how she won’t miss seeing him in her courtroom. That makes two of us. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I am somewhat relieved. That thought should make me feel bad because a life has been lost but it doesn’t.

  “I’m going to head out for the day.”

  “See you next week.” I grab my bag heading straight for my car. I swing by the pharmacy, grabbing the pregnancy test. I have no patience and end up taking it in the bathroom of the store. My mind goes over everything Mary had told me.

  I still can’t imagine Chad as some vigilante. He wasn't a good man. A good man doesn't trap a woman against her car and scare her. If Chad didn't kill himself then who killed him? The list of possible suspects could be a mile long. Some of the people he’d gotten off for their crimes had enemies. Mostly the families of the victims. They could’ve blamed him and exacted their own revenge.

  My mind snaps back to my own husband. The look on his face the day I’d told him about Chad. The rage that came off him that day in the parking lot. If anyone could get away with killing someone and making it look like a suicide it would be Lucas. I look in the mirror of the bathroom. Do I believe that Lucas could do such a thing?

  To protect me I think Lucas would do anything. That is one thing I’m certain of. Before I even look down at the test I know my life is about to change. I pick it up without looking, sliding it into my purse. I am going to the one place I know I can get answers.

  My husband.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lucas

  “You’re home early,” I say as Angel comes through the back door and into the kitchen. I take her bag and coat from her as she slips off her shoes.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t hear. Chad Dering killed himself last night.” She stops by the center island and drums her fingers on the countertop. “Don’t you think it’s odd? He’s not really the type to take his own life. He loves himself way too much for that.”

  “I haven’t given it much thought.” I hang up the jacket and set the bag on the desk nook just to the right of the refrigerator. From inside the icebox, I grab a pitcher of tea and carry it over to the counter.

  “It’s not as if I spent a lot of time thinking about it either, but it just didn’t feel right.”

  “Go with your gut,” I advise and pour her a glass.

  She doesn’t take it. The wheels in her head are turning. We’ve never really gotten close to this topic. I rub a hand across my jaw and wait for her questions. I don’t know how I should answer them. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. Angel is my anchor in this life. When I saw her, I knew the reason for my existence was to love and cherish her. The things I did were because I wanted to create a better world for her.

  “My gut says that last night Chad wasn’t the only one in his office when he died.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  Instead of answering that question, she asks another one. “If I ask you questions, will you lie or will you tell me the truth?”

  My hand is wet from the pitcher, but it could be sweat. “What do you want?”

  “The truth.” It’s stated plainly, without animosity or anger, which gives me some hope. Mild. My heart thumps faster.

  “Then that’s what I’ll give you.” I peel my hand away from the pitcher and step back to lean my ass against the counter.

  She takes a seat and folds her hands in front of her like she’s ready to start officially recording each and every one of my responses. Usually in inquisitions, it’s the examiner standing and the suspect in the chair but she’s the one with power here. For all that she likes to be dominated in the bedroom, she holds me in the palm of her small hand. If she told me to kneel, I’d kneel. If she told me to take up the kitchen knife and dig my eyes out, I’d do it without a whimper. I love her. Not in any ordinary way. Not like two regular people love each other because she is not ordinary. She’s the sexiest, smartest, funniest, wisest person I’ve ever had the good fucking fortune to meet. I need her like humans need oxygen. If I don’t have her in my life, I’ll die. That’s the simple result of a simple equation.

  “When you go away, overnight to other counties, what are you doing?”

  “Working,” I reply. Technically, getting rid of certain people is work. Killing is a calling of a different sort.

  “Women?”

  Hardly ever. I’ve only killed a couple women and those were injections. But that’s not what she’s asking. Have I ever fucked, thought of fucking, another woman? That’s an easy answer. “No.”

  “Children?”

  “No!” Wait, maybe she was thinking about me and women in a different way. I backtrack. “To be precise, I’ve never touched a woman’s body that hasn’t been dead.”

  It’s as close to a confession as I’ve made tonight or any night. Angel’s not dumb. She’ll put it together, especially since she has suspicions. I watch as she turns my answer over in her head. She comes to some decision then because she nods and then picks up her drink. As she downs the iced tea, I ask, “Is that it?”

  “Those were the important questions. I don’t need to know any more.” She sets the glass down and approaches. Her hand feels warm on my chest. I fold her against me, pressing her head against my chest. My heart beats s
low and steady under her ear.

  “Be careful,” she says. “I can’t lose you.”

  “I’ve always been careful,” I reassure her. A huge breath of relief escapes me. I sweep a hand over her back. Angel feels small and fragile under my palm. She’s a capable and independent woman, but she also needs to be taken care of. That needs to be my priority. “I can refrain from doing any extra work in the future.” Someone else will have to take care of the garbage in our counties. I need to be here for Angel.

  “No. I’m not saying you should stop taking on extra work if you find it fulfilling. It’s sort of comforting to know that there’s someone out there that will take care of things. I’d actually been contemplating quitting my job because it’s so frustrating to see people get off with a warning or a slap on the wrist and then go off and commit the same heinous crimes all over again. It’s not fair.”

  “No. It’s not.” I hug her tightly. We’re on the same page--fully.

  “But you’re more important to me than anyone so--”

  I place a finger to her lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m careful. Very careful.”

  “There won’t always be a Chad,” she whispers.

  “There is always a Chad, unfortunately. There is always someone who puts money before lives, but I hear you. I won’t ever leave you.”

  Her arms climb up to wrap around my neck. “You better not.”

  I press my lips to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. Better get used to me.”

  “I am, silly. Isn’t that why I married you?”

  “You married me because I have a big dick and don’t mind playing kinky games with you in the bedroom.”

  She pulls away and slaps me across the chest. “That’s not true. I didn’t even know I liked kinky games until you started doing stuff to me while we were--” she twirls her finger around.