The Good Killer Read online

  Jimmy thinks it over in the car, parked by the side of Brackett Creek Road, Nick in the passenger seat. If they go in after dark, if they’re lucky, they might get away before anyone figures out what’s happening.

  He looks at the kid and wonders if he’s going to be a problem. Jimmy has been cautious so far. He’s paying Nick well for this little trip: five thousand dollars, with the promise of more if it goes on longer than a week. But he hasn’t shared his mind with Nick any more than he’s had to. Nick knows they’re looking for Sean, but he hasn’t asked what will happen when they find him. He hasn’t asked many questions at all—even today, when Jimmy sent him to buy the shotgun.

  Time to see what the kid’s made of. He lays out the plan and Nick listens with his head bowed. He’s fussing with the bandage on his arm.

  When Jimmy comes to the end, Nick says, “We’re not gonna hurt her?”

  “No.”

  “Or the roommate or any of the others?”

  Jimmy gestures in the direction of the ranch. “I’ve got no quarrel with anyone in there,” he says.

  “Okay.”

  “I can count on you?”

  “Okay.”

  He sounds reluctant, but it’s no more than Jimmy expected. He thinks Nick will come through.

  “Good,” Jimmy says. “We’ll go when it’s dark. That gives us a couple of hours. I want to stay here and keep watch, but you should return the bike to the rental place.”

  “Now?”

  “We won’t have time later. We’ll be in kind of a hurry. While you’re gone, pick up something for us to eat.”

  Nick nods and both of them get out of the car. They take the front wheel off the bike and stow it in the trunk. Jimmy slips the sawed-off shotgun under his coat and crosses the road. He finds a place along the tree line where he can watch the entrance to the ranch unobserved.

  The tires stir up dust when Nick pulls off the shoulder and onto the road. After he’s gone around ten minutes, Jimmy starts to think about the risk he’s taking. If the kid has second thoughts, he can just keep on driving.

  Jimmy smiles and shakes his head. There’s nothing he can do about it now.

  He thinks the kid’ll come back.

  Thirty minutes go by, then forty, and things begin to look grim. Jimmy takes out his phone to check his messages. Nothing from Nick, but there’s a text from Adam Khadduri.

  Progress? it says.

  He ignores it. Slides the phone back into his pocket.

  Five minutes later Nick pulls up with fish-and-chips from the Clyde Park Tavern.

  Molly Winter

  There’s a bonfire after dinner.

  It’s brush cleared from the ranch and old wooden pallets. When it gets going, the flames rise ten feet in the air.

  Fourteen women gather around it, guests and staff. They’re sitting in the yard behind the farmhouse in folding chairs, drinking wine and beer. Kate tells a story about jumping out of a plane: being harnessed to her instructor and watching the ground coming toward her and wondering what it would be like if the parachute didn’t open. The teacher from South Carolina has a guitar, and she plays songs by Patty Griffin and Mary Chapin Carpenter. Someone asks if she knows Don McLean, and suddenly there’s a chorus of tipsy women singing “American Pie.”

  Molly is happy. She takes in the smell of the fire, and the sparks and the smoke rising up into the dark sky. Someone touches her shoulder and she turns to see Barbara Holland, who’s just come out from the house. The woman never looks happy, but now she seems distraught.

  She draws Molly aside and hands her something she hasn’t seen for more than two days: her cell phone.

  Barbara trips over the words of an apology. She’s never there to answer the house phone during these retreats, but she tries to keep on top of the messages. This time it got away from her. There’s a message—more than one—for Molly from Sean, and he says it’s an emergency.

  Molly powers up her phone, imagining the worst. There are only a few things that Sean would consider an emergency.

  One in particular.

  Barbara is rambling on next to her. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do—” But Molly wants nothing from her, just wants to get away from her. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she says. “Sean exaggerates sometimes.”

  She walks away, toward the farmhouse, and Barbara stays behind. Molly types her password into her phone and there’s a long string of voicemails waiting from a number she doesn’t recognize. She listens to the latest one: Sean’s voice, sounding weary and almost mechanical. As if he’s practiced the story and has it down to essentials.

  The story is bad: There was someone killing people at the Galleria, and Sean had to shoot him. Now his picture is all over the news on TV.

  Walking along the side of the house, Molly calls him back. He answers after a single ring.

  “Thank god,” he says. “Where are you?”

  “Still at the retreat,” she says. “I just got—”

  “It’s okay. I’m coming. I’m almost there. Maybe thirty minutes away.”

  She rounds the corner of the house, and the cabins come into view. Something’s not right. Each cabin has a light above the door, with a sensor to make it come on automatically after sunset.

  The light above her door is out.

  “Someone’s here,” she says to Sean.

  “Who?”

  The cabin is fifty yards away, but even with the light out she can see someone there, a shadowy figure standing in front of her door, his back to her.

  “Who?” Sean says again.

  “I don’t know. But he’s at my door.”

  “Get out of there.”

  “No, I’m not in the cabin. I’m watching from outside.”

  The shadowy man pushes the door open. He reaches up and the light comes on. He must have loosened the bulb before, and now he has twisted it back in. He moves inside and the door closes.

  “I think it’s Jimmy,” Molly says.

  “You’re not sure?”

  “I only saw him from the back.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “No,” Molly says. She has slipped back around the corner of the farmhouse, so even if he looks out the window now, he won’t be able to see her.

  “I’m coming,” Sean says. “But you need to get away. The car you rented—can you get to it?”

  It’s parked alongside the driveway of the ranch. She would have to cross a lot of open ground to reach it. In any case, it doesn’t matter.

  “The keys are in the cabin,” she says.

  There’s a beat or two when Sean is quiet on the line. Then he says, “You need to go where there are other people. You’ll be safe. He won’t come after you in a crowd.”

  It’s a comforting thought, but Sean doesn’t sound convinced. Molly isn’t convinced either. She remembers the guy on the bike. It could be a coincidence that he showed up today, but she doesn’t think so. If he’s with Jimmy, there might be others. Who’s to say what they might do?

  Molly can hear the women at the bonfire singing. She likes them. She doesn’t want to bring this trouble down on them.

  “I’m not staying here,” she says to Sean. “I don’t need a car. I can find another ride.”

  Jimmy Harper

  The lock on the cabin door was child’s play.

  Jimmy’s inside now, sitting in the dark at a thrift-store writing desk by the window. Through a gap in the curtains he can see the farmhouse in the distance. There’s a hedge between him and the backyard, but he can make out the glow of a fire on the other side.

  That’s where everyone must be. The other cabins seem deserted.

  Nick is waiting in the car at the side of the road near the turnoff for the ranch. He’s taken off the license plates.

  If all Jimmy’s wishes come true, it’ll go this way: Molly will come to him. She’ll walk through the door and he’ll grab her. He has zip ties to bind her wrists. He has a hunting knife to control her. He has the sawe
d-off shotgun.

  He’s cutting strips from a bedsheet right now. He’ll use them to improvise a gag.

  Once he’s got her, he only has to make a call. Nick will be here in half a minute with the car. Then Jimmy pushes Molly into the back seat and jumps in with her and they’re gone.

  That’s the easy version. It might not happen that way.

  Watching through the window, Jimmy sees someone emerge from the far side of the farmhouse. In the dark, at a distance, it’s only a silhouette. It could be Molly, or it could be one of the other women.

  Whoever it is, she walks from the farmhouse to the barn and disappears inside.

  Jimmy waits for her to come out again. She doesn’t. If it’s Molly, she could slip away through a different door and he wouldn’t be able to see her.

  He takes out his phone and dials Nick.

  “I need you to check something out.”

  Molly Winter

  There was no way to avoid it, crossing from the farmhouse to the barn out in the open.

  But once Molly is in the barn, she has cover. She passes through the yoga studio to a side door. From here, there’s no line of sight to her cabin. The stable is in the way.

  That’s where she wants to be.

  She jogs across the grass and slips between the rails of the paddock fence. The stable doors have nothing holding them shut but an iron latch. The hinges make hardly any noise.

  It’s dim inside, but there’s a row of switches on the wall. She flips one of them and a single bulb flicks on up in the rafters. It’s all the light she wants to risk, and it’s enough to see the rack on the wall that holds the grooming tools: combs and brushes and picks for cleaning horses’ hooves.

  Molly takes down one of the picks. It’s a sharp metal hook—the closest thing to a weapon she’s going to get. She tucks it handle first in her back pocket.

  Maggie’s stall is the fourth on the left. The horse shifts around when she opens the door.

  Molly touches her neck. Whispers, “Good girl. Will you take me for a ride?”

  She puts Maggie’s halter on first, then the bridle. Drapes the saddle pad over the horse’s back, then lifts the saddle into place. The girth is next—the straps that secure the saddle. Molly’s had practice with it; she knows how tight to cinch it.

  Maggie is breathing a little heavy with the saddle on. Nervous. Molly touches her flank to soothe her.

  “We’ll be all right,” she whispers.

  She plans to ride around the far side of the barn, down to the pond on the northern edge of the ranch, then pick up the trail that leads through the woods. If she’s lucky, no one will see her. There’s a branch of the trail that leads to Brackett Creek Road, and she considered going that way, but the turnoff for the ranch is on Brackett Creek Road and for all she knows Jimmy might have someone watching it. She’ll take a different branch, a longer route, south and east to Castle Mountain Road. She’ll meet up with Sean there.

  “There’s a place where the horse trail crosses the road,” she told him. “It has a yellow sign to mark it. You won’t miss it. That’s where I’ll be.”

  She walks the horse down the broad aisle between the stalls. The other horses stir as they go by. Molly listens at the stable doors without opening them. She hears nothing but the huff of Maggie’s breathing.

  There’s a row of lead ropes hanging in coils by the doors. Molly takes one down. She doesn’t need it now, but she’ll want it at the end of the line. She’ll need to tie the horse to a tree so she doesn’t wander off and the people from the ranch can recover her.

  Molly puts her left arm through the coiled rope and brings it over her head. She wants both hands free.

  Now she’s ready. But as she’s about to open the stable doors, she sees the flaw in her plan. She’s been focusing on her need to get away, but not on what will happen when she’s gone. If Jimmy doesn’t realize she’s gone, he’s bound to search the ranch for her. Which could put the other women in danger.

  She can’t leave without warning them.

  She’ll have to tell them a story. Not the truth, but something convincing enough to put them on guard. It dawns on her that she’s already laid the groundwork with her story about an abusive boyfriend. She can tell Barbara and the others that he’s found her somehow and he’s here.

  She’ll say she’s in fear for her life, which is true. Then she’ll ride off, with or without Barbara’s blessing. Barbara will handle things as she sees fit. She’ll probably call the police. By the time things get sorted out, Molly will have met up with Sean.

  It’s not as clean a getaway as she had hoped for, but it should work. She opens the doors and leads Maggie out of the stable. A light grip on the bridle is enough to guide her. The paddock gate is off to the right, and Molly is ready to go that way when she hears someone singing.

  Bye, bye, Miss American Pie …

  She turns left instead and moves along the side of the building. She reaches the corner and pokes her head around it. From here she can see the cabins.

  There’s Kate stepping up to their cabin door, drawing her key from her pocket.

  Molly’s heart sinks. She’s about to call out to Kate, but at that moment Maggie lets out a snort and pulls away. The bridle slips from Molly’s fingers. And before she can react, a hand claps onto her shoulder from behind.

  Jimmy Harper

  Jimmy sees the woman approaching the cabin, and he’s ready.

  She walks through the door, eases it shut behind her, and tosses her key onto the writing desk. Jimmy comes out of the bathroom with a pillowcase. He pulls it over her head before she can turn around.

  He pushes her onto one of the beds, tells her not to struggle or he’ll kill her. He has the zip ties ready, two of them looped together. He slips them around her wrists and tightens them. He’s got two more for her ankles, but they’re harder to get on. She tries to kick him. He has to punch her to settle her down.

  He ties the gag on under the pillowcase. Tells her to be still and she won’t get hurt.

  She seems docile enough now, but for good measure Jimmy takes out another zip tie and secures her bound wrists to the headboard of the bed.

  He can hear her crying as he returns to the window.

  When he looks out, he sees Molly running past the cabin toward the woods.

  Molly Winter

  It’s the bike guy.

  She slips free of him and chases after the horse, but Maggie is already halfway across the paddock.

  The bike guy catches Molly, gets both his arms around her from behind, and tells her to stay calm, he’s not going to hurt her. Molly tries to break free, but he’s stronger, so she follows his advice. She stays calm.

  Molly has given thought to this moment. She’s known for years that someone might come for them, for her and for Sean. She remembers everything Sean told her.

  When they come, they may be stronger than you. They probably will be. But sometimes you can use their strength against them.

  The bike guy pulls at her, but this time Molly doesn’t try to get away. She sets her feet and bends her knees. Launches herself back against him.

  He goes over—both of them go over together—but he lands on his back on the ground and she lands on top of him. He lets out a grunt that turns sharp at the end like a squeal, and she rolls off him and scrambles to her feet. He’s clutching at his stomach. There’s something silver there.

  The hoof pick. It was in her pocket.

  Molly looks around. Maggie is trotting along the paddock fence. Spooked. Wild. In the distance, the door of Molly’s cabin is closed. Kate must be inside. And Jimmy’s in there.

  The bike guy is still on the ground. He plucks the hoof pick from his stomach. The tip of the hook is dark with blood.

  He starts to get up. And Molly runs.

  14

  Jimmy Harper

  Jimmy picks up the sawed-off shotgun. His knife is in a sheath on his belt. The extra zip ties are in his coat pocket. There’s nothing
else he brought with him.

  He wipes his fingerprints from the doorknob with a strip of bedsheet on his way out.

  The moon floats in the sky, half-full, over the peak of the barn. Molly has disappeared into the trees. Nick runs up from the direction of the stable. There’s blood on his shirt.

  “She stabbed me,” he says.

  “Come on,” says Jimmy.

  There’s a footpath that leads into the woods. It climbs up a slope and bends around to the southeast. Jimmy runs along for almost a quarter mile with Nick behind him. The path is a dark ribbon unfolding ahead of them, and it passes through a small clearing and joins up with a wider trail: a horse trail running roughly north to south.

  Jimmy follows the trail south, thinking that momentum would have carried Molly along this way. He slows and fishes his flashlight from his pocket and scans the ground. It’s soft here and he can make out footprints. They look fresh. He clicks off the light and keeps going.

  Another half mile or so and the trail rolls down into a shallow depression and rises up again. A little farther on, it splits into two trails, one bending west and the other east.

  “Which way?” Nick says.

  Jimmy gets his flashlight out, but the ground is harder here. No telling which branch of the trail Molly followed.

  “We split up,” Jimmy says.

  Nick Ensen

  It hurts to run.

  Nick had a cousin once who got stabbed with a steak knife, all the way to the handle. Right about the same place, next to his belly button. It fucked him up, cut through his muscles. For a long time, he couldn’t walk around without moaning.

  This is bad, but it’s not that bad.

  Nick feels it with every stride he takes, but it’s not wrecking him. Which means the wound isn’t too deep. He thinks he’ll be okay.

  He wants to be the one to catch her now, the girl. He won’t make the same mistake, being all nice about it, thinking she’ll surrender. Next time it’s going to go hard. Nick has one of the knives Jimmy had him buy. It’s on his belt. Anybody gets cut next time, it won’t be him.