Supermarket(62)

“Oh my God!” I said, shocked. “You killed him?”

“No, you idiot!” said Red as he raised both hands in the air. “Who do you think I am? I gave him some money, Jesus!”

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry about that. Well, okay . . . that’s good,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t just accuse my best friend of murder.

“I paid him off,” he said, motioning to the key card. “He’s playing hooky tonight.” He grinned. “He called in, and due to such short notice on a holiday, nobody will be monitoring the cameras this evening.”

“Red, you’re a genius, man!” I said, smiling wide. “This seems pretty fail-safe!” I high-fived him, my eyes landing on the wall clock over his shoulder. “Oh shit, I gotta go!” I said.

“Where you off to?”

“I have an appointment with Dr. Cross. Hopefully my last one.”

“That woman seems like such a good doctor,” said Red. “I wish she could see me.”

“She’s a good therapist, that’s for sure. You should put in a request and try to make an appointment.” I stood up. “Thanks again for everything, Red,” I said, patting him on the back as I rushed off toward Olivia’s office.

In my hurry from all the excitement, I realized I had forgotten to call Mia and tell her the plan. Down the hallway from Olivia’s office, I saw a phone attached to the wall. I was late, but I picked up the receiver and put it to my ear. Just as I was about to dial . . . I heard him.

“Hey, dude, listen. Don’t forget you gotta be there at twelve sharp, okay?”

It was Frank.

“Frank, what the fuck are you doing, man? You said you were gonna leave me alone!” I said, my voice rising.

“Well, look, man, I’m keeping up my end of the bargain, aren’t I? I mean, I didn’t just appear out of nowhere this time, huh?”

“Fuck you for ruining my life, man.”

“Oh come off it, you pretentious motherfucker!” Frank barked into my ear. “I’m just checking in to make sure you’re not gonna puss out!”

“Look, I’ll be there tonight, okay!” I said into the phone. “Just leave me the fuck alone until then!”

With that, I slammed the phone down.

BLLRRRRINNGGGG.

I jumped at the loud sound and picked up midring.

“Hello?” I said.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ hang up on me.”

This time Frank sounded calm, but his tone was unsettling. “I’ll see you tonight, Flynn. But just know you can’t win everything. You know, I know.”

The phone went dead. But right then, I knew the phone had been dead the entire time. The whole conversation was in my head.

I was shook. Terrified. I couldn’t let myself overthink it—even if he knew my plan, he still didn’t know how I was going to kill him. Because I didn’t know how I was going to kill him.

Therefore, my plan could still work. I picked up the phone again. Reluctantly, I placed it to my ear, bracing myself. It was just a dial tone.

I punched in Mia’s phone number. The phone rang . . . and rang . . . and rang . . .

After the third, I was greeted by her voice mail.

Hey, this is Mia, why don’t you leave Mia message! Hahaha, get it? No? Whatever . . . just leave it at the beep.

“Hey, it’s Flynn. Haha, you still have that message, huh? Anyway, listen . . . I’ve got a plan. Call me back.”

I hung up the phone and headed to Olivia’s office. I stood at the door for a moment, not knocking. I was so shaken by everything going on. Damn, this was literally insane.

“Hey, Flynn!”

“Holy shit!” I screamed, jumping. It was Dr. Cross, coming up from behind me.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!” she said, looking extremely concerned.

“Oh, no . . . don’t worry about it. To be fair, I was pretty zoned out,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow.

“Okay, well, I am sorry. I’m running behind today. So, let’s get started, shall we?” She opened the door and motioned for me to enter. “Have a seat.”

I sat down, but I was so jittery I could hardly bear the confines of a chair. So I stood up. “I’m sorry, but do you mind if I pace? I just feel really wound up.”

“Of course not, by all means.”

I removed my red ball from my left jacket pocket and began to bounce it. This calmed me some.

“So, what do you want to talk about today?” Dr. Cross asked me, already writing in her black notepad.

“Dr. Cross,” I said sincerely. “Do you think you have all the answers?”

“Certainly not, Flynn.”

“So, well, I mean . . . so your method of trying to get rid of Frank could, in fact, be flawed?”

“Well, sure. I have a great deal of training and experience, but schizophrenia is a complicated and multifaceted condition. Scientists still don’t understand it fully. It’s behavioral, biological, neurological, environmental, and genetic. There is no known cure. There is no unified theory to explain the condition, so each case is treated on its own terms.”

The term scared the living shit out of me. Me . . . schizophrenic? I mean, how do I even process that? I knew it was the truth, but her putting it so bluntly just cut me deep.