My Lovely Wife(100)

“Shut up,” Millicent says.

“Mom?” Jenna says. “Is that true?”

“Your father came here to kill me.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true. I came here to get both of you away from your mother,” I say. And I go even further, because they have to know. “Your mother set me up. I didn’t kill those women.”

“Wait a minute,” Rory says. “I don’t get—”

“What is happening?” Jenna yells.

“Enough.” Millicent says. Her voice is low and hard.

We all shut up, just as we always do when she says that. It is quiet enough to hear everyone breathing.

“Kids,” Millicent says, “get out of here. Go downstairs.”

“What are you going to do?” Jenna says.

“Go.”

“Dad doesn’t have a weapon,” Rory says.

Again, I raise my empty hands. “I don’t even have a phone.”

Rory and Jenna turn to their mother.

Millicent glares at me as she steps around them and raises her hand. She points the gun at me.

“Mom!” Jenna yells.

“Wait.” Rory jumps forward, placing himself between the gun and me. He throws off his sling and holds out both arms.

Millicent does not lower her hand. She raises the other one and holds the gun with both hands. The gun is pointed at our son.

“Get out of the way,” she says.

He shakes his head.

“Rory, you have to move,” I say.

“No. Put the gun down.”

Millicent takes a step forward. “Rory.”

“No.”

I can see the anger in her eyes, even on her face. It is turning an unnatural color of red.

“Rory,” she says. “Move.”

Her voice is a growl. I see Jenna jump a little.

Rory does not move. I hold my hand out, intending to grab his arm and pull him out of the way. Right then, Millicent shifts the gun and fires one shot. The bullet goes right into our bed.

Jenna screams.

Rory freezes.

Millicent takes a step toward him.

She has lost control. I can see it her pitch-black eyes. If she has to, she will shoot Rory.

She will shoot all of us.

I jump forward and knock Rory down, covering his body with mine. Just as we hit the ground, I see a blur of orange-and-white polka dots. And a glint of metal.

Jenna. She has the knife from under her bed. I never even saw it in her hand.

She heads right for Millicent, the knife raised, and crashes into her. They both tumble backward onto the bed.

The gun fires a second time.

Another scream.

I jump up. Rory is right behind me. He grabs the gun, which has fallen out of Millicent’s hand. I grab Jenna and pull her off. The knife comes with her. It slides right out of Millicent.

Blood.

So much blood.

Millicent is on the floor now, her hands clasped against her abdomen. The blood is coming from her.

Behind me, Jenna is screaming, and I turn to see if she’s hurt. Rory shakes his head at me and points to the wall. The second bullet is lodged there, not inside my daughter.

“Get her out of here,” I say.

Rory drags Jenna out of the room. She is hysterical and screams all the way down the hall, dropping the bloody knife as she goes.

I turn to Millicent.

She is lying on the floor, staring up at me. Her white nightgown is turning red, right before my eyes. She looks exactly like my wife and, at the same time, nothing like her.

She opens her mouth and tries to speak. Blood comes out. Millicent looks at me, her eyes wild. She does not have long. A few minutes, a few seconds, and she knows it. She keeps trying to say something.

I grab the knife and bring it down hard, plunging it right into her chest.

Millicent does not get the final word.





Epilogue


Three Years Later


The map on the wall showed the whole world, from Australia to the Americas, and the North Pole to the South. We didn’t use darts, because we all have an aversion to metal objects with sharp edges. Instead, we pulled out an ancient Pin the Tail on the Donkey game and put new adhesive on the ribbon tails. Blindfolded, we each took a turn. Jenna went first, followed by Rory. I went last.

I breathed a sigh of relief when two of the first three tails landed in Europe. Neither the Arctic nor Antarctica sounded very inviting to me.

We tacked up a map of Europe and played again—wash, rinse, repeat—until we had found a new place to live: Aberdeen, Scotland.

Our choice was made.

That was two and half years ago, right after I was finally cleared by the police. I didn’t think I would be. In fact, I thought Millicent would be named another one of my victims. No one knew Jenna stabbed her, not after I wiped off the knife and made sure the only prints were mine. I also confessed. I told the police I killed my wife in self-defense, because she was the real killer. It never occurred to me that anyone would believe it.

And they wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Andy, who said it couldn’t be me. I couldn’t even use a tablet computer, he told them, so how the hell could I kill so many women without getting caught?

Then there was Kekona, who said I was a terrible liar and could never be a serial killer. Although she did mention that I was a pretty good tennis coach.