You Owe Me a Murder(66)

She sighed as if I were being difficult. “I know what you’re doing, by the way.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re avoiding the problem. You’re hoping it will all go away, that you can get on a plane in another two days, fly home, and all of this will be some kind of horrid bad dream.” She waved her hands in front of her face. “Like you’re some kind of magician that can make all of this disappear by simply stalling.”

“You can’t make me do anything. You can’t make me be like you.”

She stood up. “Oh, please. You’re already like me. That’s why I picked you. You’ve never fit in with other people. They’ve never made sense to you. You told me that yourself. You’ve always been manipulating things to try to blend in with all of them . . .” Her hand gestured to include the people walking in the distance. “What I’m trying to make you understand is that there’s no point in blending in. Those people are pointless. You’re the one who’s worth something. The only reason you don’t act is because you’ve been afraid.”

Nicki stepped closer to me. We were just inches apart, close enough that I could smell the mint on her breath from her toothpaste and see the red mark by her mouth where I’d hit her. She reached up and tenderly brushed the hair off my face. “You’re smarter than them. They’re the ones who will need you at some point, not the other way around, so why not use them to get what you want?”

“This is about what you want,” I spat back, but I didn’t move away. If I moved, she would likely strike, like a snake.

“Perhaps. But I got you what you wanted first, so this is just a payback. I believe in keeping the ledger even. When I do something for someone, I expect them to return the favor. And when someone crosses me, then I’m sure to make them pay. You’re right, though—?I can’t make you do it.”

“But?”

“But I can make you wish you had.”

I stepped back as if pulling away from a spell she was weaving. “What does that even mean?”

Nicki walked over to her bike and kicked up the stand. “It means you owe me. You can go to the police, but you have no evidence. You can run home, back to Vancouver if you want, but you’ll eventually pay. It will almost be worse if you insist on putting this off, because you never know when I’ll come to collect. Maybe something else happens to Alex. He can’t avoid food forever. And your dad, doesn’t he cycle to work? I think I saw that on your mom’s blog. How very environmentally responsible. People have accidents on bikes all the time.”

All the blood in my body slid down toward my feet, leaving me pale and ice cold as she talked.

“Or I still have the list you wrote about Connor. Maybe I save it up for later to send to the police. When you’re about to graduate, for example. There’s no statute of limitations on murder. But you know what you can be one hundred percent certain of?”

I opened my mouth but at first nothing came out and I had to swallow. “No—?what?”

“I won’t forget the debt. And I will collect it. In fact, it would be more fun to wait, letting you fret and wonder when everything in your life finally will blow up. I can be very patient.” She climbed onto the bike, one foot still on the ground, the other on a pedal. “Or you take this final opportunity and kill my mother tonight. It’s your last chance. You do that and I promise you I go away.”

“How do I know that you will?”

“You have to trust me,” she said.

I snorted. “That’s just perfect.”

She scrunched up her face. “Now, that’s not fair. I’ve kept every one of my promises to you. You do this and we’re done. Consider it my gift to you.”

“A gift?”

“Then you’ll know what you’re really capable of. After that, nothing will hold you back.” Nicki pushed off and started to cycle away. “Just imagine what you might accomplish!”





Thirty


August 29


2 Days Remaining


I had no idea if British hospitals had set visiting hours, but I didn’t intend to ask, in case someone told me I had to leave.

I wrinkled my nose against the strong smell of cleanser mixed with something sour and musky that I didn’t want to identify. I paused outside the third-floor elevator to stare down the hall at his closed door. I stiffened my spine before I could lose my courage.

I moved around a nurse pushing an older guy in a wheelchair and cautiously nudged the door open. Alex pulled himself up when he saw me. A middle-aged man in the bed next to him snored away.

“Hey!” Alex waved. A tube that led from his elbow to the IV pole knocked against the metal rail of the bed.

I slid inside the room and drew a chair up next to him. “Hey to you too.” I touched his arm, almost as if I had to convince myself he was really there and okay. “You look better than when I saw you last.”

Alex rubbed his chin, his whiskers rasping. “Sorry.”

I pulled back, shocked. “Why are you sorry?”

“I imagine it was freaky, seeing me like that. Thrashing around, throwing up, passing out,” Alex said, not meeting my eyes. “Not exactly the kind of thing they advise when you want to impress a girl.”