“That was one sick son of a bitch. Too bad he's dead. We have enough to send him to death row.”
“We have more.” I gave Jerry the Cliff Notes version about the other women we thought Hunter murdered.
“Christ on a motorcycle!” Jerry shook his head.
The piece de resistance was the recording Emilie made while she talked to Hunter. She caught his confession and his bragging about his future plans on her cell.
I felt certain there would be no repercussions from the shooting, but I was worried District Attorney Weed might see another open door. He filed no charges, however. The Richmond police sent ballistics reports and copies of other photos from Hunter's computer to out-of-state police to close their cold cases.
As soon as he could, Whip took Alex and Emilie to Peru to wrap up the project he started before Merry's death. We arranged for both kids to continue counseling with doctors Silberman and Schwartz through Internet and satellite phones. Tiny digital cameras gave the kids private sessions with their therapists. Emilie suffered recurring nightmares she killed Hunter. Alex showed no outward effect, but Dr. Silberman said he was very much overly stimulated and needed the diversion of being away from his house. Peru was the perfect place for him to begin healing.
And me? I promised Whip I'd get rid of the house, since he said he never wanted to set foot inside again. Jerry Skelton dropped by with a card for a company that cleaned up crime scenes. Who knew you could make a living cleaning up gore?
I hired a different crew to clean, repaint, and redecorate the house. It sold in two weeks in a hot market. Besides, there was a ghoulish curiosity about a place where someone was shot and killed. I packed up what we wanted to keep and donated what we no longer needed. All but Whip's favorite chair. It, and the bullet hole in the headrest, went out with the trash the day after Hunter's death. None of us wanted to see it again.
Emilie came to my room the night after we killed Hunter. I'd left my door ajar, expecting a midnight chat. She didn't disappoint me.
“Have you thought about how you're going to take care of us?”
“Only every minute since your mom died. What do you have in mind?”
“I was wondering if we could find a way to travel with Dad and still keep up with our schoolwork.” Emilie put an orange and brown head on my shoulder.
“You mean, homeschooled on the road? Alex'd love ‘on the road’ but would hate ‘homeschooled.’”
“Time for him to grow up, huh?”
We would have a very different lifestyle. I had to think about all the pros and cons, the logistics. That night it was too much to wrap my brain around.
“Just think about it, okay?” Emilie wiggled out of bed and closed my door behind her. There was a deep sigh. Wasn't mine. Or was it?
Mad Max: Unintended Consequences Page 26