Page 40 of Resurrect Me

“Yeah? I’m assuming this has to do with the cult and Starkey, yes?”

She sighs. “The number is three.”

“You killed three people? Three fucking people, Tacy? Why?” The veins in my temples are pounding, and I breathe slowly to ward off tunnel vision. My wife…a killer. I stand and pace next to the table. I don’t know what to think. What to say.

“I had to,” she says. “It was out of self-defense. Or…at least he convinced me that it was out of self-defense. That if I didn’t do it…they would kill me first.”

“Were you on drugs at this point? Was this part of one of his sick rituals?” I ask and stop pacing long enough to catch her molars grinding and her muscles tensing. Good. I hope she’s anxious. Jesus Christ. I can’t believe she’s dumping this on me. Now, of all times. Right after our weapons are intercepted, and we discover we have a fucking rat in our midst.

“Yes, a heavy dose of hallucinogens,” she says. “A cocktail. And yes…part of the chastening ritual. Does it really matter, though? How or why I killed them? The point is, I did it. And I’m ready to do it again, but for the right reasons. For good, this time.”

“There’s never a good reason to kill, Tacy,” I say breathlessly.

There’s a knock on the door. Reggie sticks his head in, looks at me, then notices Tacy and winces. “Oops, sorry Boss. Didn’t know you were occupied.”

“Hi there, Reggie,” Tacy says, sneering. “Looking good.”

“Hi, Mrs. Rountree,” Reggie says and gives me a deer-in-the-headlights look.

“It’s Tacy,” she says.

“Right,” Reggie says. “Hi, Tacy.”

“What’s up Reg?” I ask him.

“Shawn has word from the sanction,” he replies, clasping the door in one hand. One foot in the room, one foot out.

“Give me until one, Reg. We’re almost done here.”

Tacy rolls her brown eyes, her lashes flutter like butterfly wings, and she stares at one of us then the other. “Barging in on us like old times, right…Reggie?”

Reggie’s mouth falls agape, and he squints at me. He throws his hands in the air as if to say, I don’t know what the fuck to do here. I shake my head and shrug. “I’ll meet you at the dock at one.”

Reggie confirms and the door clicks shut behind him. I turn to Tacy. This woman is my life…but she might be the death of me. Thetruedeath of me.

“Did you ever do time, Tacy? Or did the police ever question you while you lived in Washington?”

“No. Never. I sometimes wonder if the people I killed were already missing. Forgotten. Like they were runaways, and no one was looking for them, so no one found them. Know what I mean? At least, that’s what Starkey sort of…indicated.”

“Did anyone else see you…kill them?”

“Just Starkey.”

“What happened to the bodies? I mean, every kill leaves some sort of trail behind.”

“Rotting on the rocks…probably now at the bottom of the Pacific.”

I swallow the lump that’s forming in my throat. “What about the one that wasn’t self-defense?”

“Ritual,” she says point-blank.

Jesus Christ. Who is this woman? Truly?

“Tacy, I think it’s time for you to go,” I hold my arms out, implying I want a hug goodbye. Killer or not, she’s fucking adorable, and I still can’t help myself around her.

She spins towards me in the chair and tucks a loose strand of her chocolatey hair behind her ear. She uncrosses her legs, rises from the chair, and presses herself against me. I can smell her makeup and the heady scent of perfume on her.

“Fine. But if I’m not allowed to join your club, at least show me around the clubhouse. Pretty please?” She asks and bats her eyelashes.

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