The Sun Down Motel(95)

Marnie looked from Viv to Alma. “I don’t think I can do that. There’s too much to do, and it has to be fast. And I have an idea of where we could put him.”

Were they really talking about doing this? Was this really happening? Were they going to put Simon Hess somewhere and hope no one found him? And what was going to happen to her?

Was Alma, a cop, really going to go along with it? She looked at Alma’s face and saw determination. Anger. And there had been that moment of shock that had almost undone her. This was affecting Alma; it had dealt her some kind of blow. For whatever reason, Alma was in.

Alma glanced out at the parking lot, which was still empty. But for how long? “Where do you think we should put him?” she asked Marnie.

“Martin Greer on Weston Road is in his eighties. His kids are putting him in a home. They don’t want the property, and he doesn’t maintain it. It’s huge and it’s empty.”

Alma thought it over and nodded. “I know the place. It’ll work for a few weeks, at least. If we come up with something better, we’ll move him.”

“You’ll move him,” Marnie corrected her. “I’m seeing this through, but I’m done after tonight.”

Alma looked at Viv, assessing her. “You’re still good for this? If not, speak up.”

“I’m good,” Viv said, though her face felt numb.

“We’ll need a plan for you. It needs to look like you left suddenly, and maybe not willingly. It can’t look like you decided to skip town.”

“What if I just stayed and pretended nothing happened?” Viv said.

“You, being questioned by police?” Marnie broke in, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t last a minute. The whole thing unravels if that happens, and you put all of us in danger. No, I like her idea.” She motioned to Alma. “You’re gone, but you didn’t skip town. You’re just gone.”

You’re just gone. What about her parents? Her sister? “Won’t the cops look for me?”

“Sure we will,” Alma said. “We’ll look in the wrong places. And not right away.” She turned to the car and pulled the keys from where they were hanging in the lock of the trunk. “Leave your purse. Leave everything. Where is that file and notebook you showed me?”

“In the office.”

“Go get it. Don’t bring your wallet or anything else. Leave your car, everything in your apartment.” When Viv hesitated, she said, “You did this. You killed him. The consequences follow from that. Do you understand? There’s before tonight, and after. That’s what your life is from now on.”

Viv nodded. There’s before tonight, and after. She’d made a decision in that motel room. Now she was living the aftermath.

While the others put the shower curtain in the trunk and closed and locked Hess’s room, Viv jogged back to the office. The lights were on, the door unlocked. Her jacket hung from the hook. Her purse sat next to the desk.

She went into it and got out her notes, quickly, trying not to touch anything in her purse. If she touched her things, she’d pause and rethink. She couldn’t stand to see or feel her wallet, her ID, her keys. The makeup she kept in her purse. Those belong to a dead girl. I am starting everything over.

She walked to the desk and opened the key drawer. The envelope of Robert White’s money was still there, stacked with bills. She took it and stuffed it in the back pocket of her jeans. She was starting everything over, but she had a little money to do it. White would never know where his money went. The thought made her feel a little better.

She took a last glance at the guest book. Jamie’s name was in there, and Mrs. Bailey’s. Both of them would be questioned. But Mrs. Bailey was passed out, and she didn’t think Jamie would talk.

Actually, she was sure he wouldn’t. Because she’d ask him not to.

Turning her back on her old life, she left the office. Alma was behind the wheel of Simon Hess’s car; she was wearing some kind of plastic doctor’s gloves, her hands on the wheel. Marnie got in her own car and motioned to Viv.

“Come with me,” she said. “Let’s take a ride.”

Viv walked to Marnie’s car and got in.





Fell, New York

November 2017





CARLY


Callum’s car followed in my rearview mirror as I drove out of downtown Fell, onto the back roads. I gripped the wheel and my mind spun as I wondered what I should do. Pull over? Try to lose him? Call someone? Who?

What did Callum want?

He can’t possibly want to hurt me. That was the first thing that came to mind. Did a man just follow a woman around in order to hurt her?

Yes, you idiot. He could.

He had invited me out by lying to me. He had told me a crazy story about his grandfather—who, if Callum was telling the truth, was serial killer Simon Hess, formerly of Fell and now long dead in a trunk. And then Callum had followed me. He wasn’t friendly or nice. Whatever he wanted, I didn’t want to know.

And suddenly I knew what to do. I left Fell and took the back roads to the west, away from the Sun Down. The sky was dark and, except for the odd car, the roads were quiet. There was just me and Callum. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was following me.

I turned onto another familiar road, and then another. I sent up a silent prayer that the person I was going to was home. And then I pulled into Alma Trent’s driveway.