Mercy Kill_ A Mystery - Lori Armstrong [70]
Her response stung. Another slug of Wild Turkey didn’t soften the blow or cool the heat in my cheeks. So I turned it back on her. “Did J-Hawk’s wife know who you were?”
“Hell no. It wasn’t like I gave her my condolences. But if looks could kill?” Anna aimed the half-empty bottle of tequila at me like a gun. “She’d be dead.”
I waited. And drank.
“It’s more than me just hating her because she had him and I didn’t. I hated that she didn’t understand him, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve him.”
What was I supposed to say? That J-Hawk fucked up by staying with his psycho wife in order to protect his children? He’d willingly made that choice, but even with his death, Anna wouldn’t see that. And I couldn’t tell her the truth.
“His youngest daughter looks just like him.”
“Anna. Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Too late. A part of me wanted to stand up and scream during the service, scream at his perfect little blond wifey-poo, scream that she’d killed Jason a long time ago. It was her fault Jason was dead now. If he hadn’t been trying so goddamn hard to get away from her, he wouldn’t have ended up on this path, murdered by some stupid redneck and left in a field to die.”
The gruesome vision of J-Hawk’s blood-soaked body appeared. I closed my eyes, but the image stayed burned in my mind. And the damn whiskey wasn’t scrubbing it away.
“When I sat in the back of the church, I saw the type of monster she is, Mercy. Sometimes Jason would tell me some of the passive/aggressive, just plain nutso stuff she did or said.” She laughed bitterly. “And I wondered if he wasn’t making her out to be way worse than she was to alleviate his guilt about being with me. I mean, come on, isn’t that whole married-guy bullshit about his wife not understanding him clichéd? Isn’t that what you tried to get me to understand?”
“Yes.” But I didn’t have the whole story back then, like I did now. Confirming her theory that he’d ended up with a miserable life served no purpose for anyone. Especially Anna, who was mourning him hard.
Anna kept talking. Needed to get it out, I supposed, and I should’ve applauded her effort. But I preferred to keep this life-altering emotional shit bottled up inside and parcel it out in small doses.
One thing was clear. As much as I thought I’d known J-Hawk, I hadn’t. After Anna’s rant, I looked at her and felt that same sense of discord. Did I really know her?
Do you ever really know anyone?
“You’re looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost, Gunny.”
A shiver did ripple down my spine when I remembered J-Hawk had said the exact same thing to me. “No. I’m just wondering . . . Why are you here?”
“I missed you?”
I couldn’t even crack a smile.
“We both know I wouldn’t be here if Jason wasn’t dead.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “I hate even saying the words he’s dead. I should accept that Jason’s death was as ugly as his life. But when I stood in the church with my hand on his coffin? I felt nothing. No closure. Nothing but anger. It’s not fucking fair.”
“I know.”
Tears dripped down her face and dotted the slate beneath her chair. “I loved him, Mercy. Loved him like I’ve never loved anyone else. It’s made me aware of my own mortality. Made me wonder if Jason’s soul is finally at peace.”
I gulped whiskey as I considered my answer. “What about your soul?”
“I have no soul.” She stood and wiped her face. “I gotta take a leak. Or what was that funny thing you and Jason always used to say?”
“Gotta see a man about a horse,” I said absently.
“That, too. And when I get back? We’re getting shitfaced and playing poker.”
Just like old times.
SIXTEEN
Someone was trying to beat down my door.
“Jesus Christ. Grow a little patience. I’m coming.” I flipped the dead bolt and jerked the door open.
Ow. When had the morning sun gotten so bright?
“It’s about damn time.” Geneva bulled her way inside. Her eyes took in my camo tank top, boxing shorts, and extreme bedhead. “Why aren’t you dressed? We have a meeting in half an hour.”
“Shit.”
“Is your bleary-eyed state due to the empty Wild Turkey bottle and the