Mercy Kill_ A Mystery - Lori Armstrong [16]
My mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. My retirement pay isn’t near what my tax-free deployment pay was. The poor woman had less money to burn and me to deal with every damn day.” J-Hawk tipped his head back and studied the night sky. “But know the best part? From the moment I got home she was a cat in heat. She was desperate to have another baby to lord over me. So desperate that she’d even screw her fatty husband all the freakin’ time. Of course, she thought I was a pussy-whipped idiot. When two years passed and my seed hadn’t taken in her always-fertile womb, she confronted me about taking fertility tests. That’s when I told her the truth.”
This wouldn’t be pleasant.
“On my last mission, during a stopover at Ramstein, I paid a doctor five grand cash to give me a vasectomy off the books. You should’ve seen the look on her face, Mercy. I told her since she threatened to kill my existing kids, I went ahead and eliminated any future offspring to save her the trouble of taking them out, too.”
The swig of beer stuck in my throat and spewed out my nose. J-Hawk slapped me on the back during the coughing fit. When I’d settled down, I looked at him. “I didn’t mean to laugh, because none of this is funny, but you really did even the score with her, didn’t you?”
His eyes took on a wicked gleam I recognized when dealing with the enemy. “You have no idea. I’m still not done screwing with her. A few months back I had a buddy in the insurance biz bring her papers to sign. Little did she know she’d just taken out half-million-dollar life insurance policies for each one of our kids, naming her as the sole beneficiary. So if an ‘accident’ befell one of them . . .”
“She’d immediately be under suspicion.” I smiled at him. Grinned, actually. “Clever. There’s the military strategy I admired.”
“It was the only way I could protect my kids by doing what I do best.”
“Good for you.” I yawned. “Sorry. This conversation has been anything but boring.”
“You’ve had a long day, and I’ve bent your ear long enough.” He hopped off the tailgate. “Thanks for talking to me, Mercy.”
“I’m really sorry for all the shit you’ve gone through.”
“You’ve gone through plenty yourself.”
“Somehow I thought being back here would be . . . easier.”
“War isn’t hell for some of us, Mercy. For some of us, the real hell is going home.”
I let that sink in. I heard J-Hawk’s vehicle start up. Saw the red flash of his taillights as he drove off toward town. I remained in the frosty air, looking at the twinkling stars, trying to process what I thought I’d known, with the truth I’d just learned. When my teeth started to chatter, I crawled in the truck cab and headed home.
FOUR
Full moon fever wasn’t a myth. Folks in the bar business kept close tabs on that, but we weren’t due for a full moon for over a week.
So why had all the freaks come out? Clementine’s customers were an eclectic bunch. But tonight, even our oddball regulars were looking around guardedly, with one foot pointed toward the closest exit.
The shenanigans might’ve amused me if I’d been partaking of the craziness. Two couples were playing musical make-out chairs. When the jukebox stopped, they’d switch partners. The guys from the dart league enjoyed watching the wife-on-wife portion of the swap.
Unluckily for us, members of the Use It or Lose It bunco club made good on their motto to play bunco from “every church hall to every pool hall” in our fair county. When Winona explained we didn’t serve daiquiris, the ladies ordered gin and tonics