your boss is paying all this money to benefit society, why tell us about the killing at all? Why not just pay us?”
“He thinks it’s only fair that you know where the money comes from and why it’s being paid.”
Rob and Trish digested this information without speaking, but their expressions spoke volumes. Rob, thinking this could be his big chance in life, Trish, dissecting the details, trying to allow herself to believe. This was a family in crisis, Callie knew, and she had just thrown them the mother of all lifelines.
Finally Trish said, “These murderers you speak of. Is your boss going to kill them anyway?”
“Yes. But not until the money is paid.”
“And if we refuse to accept it?”
“No problem. I’ll ask the next family on my list.”
Rob said, “The person your boss is going to kill—is there any possibility it’s someone we know?”
“You know any murderers?”
Callie could practically hear the wheels turning as Rob and Trish stared at the open suitcase. Callie loved this part, the way they always struggled with it at first. But she knew where this would go. They’d turn it every way they could, but in the end, they’d take the money.
“This sounds like one of those specials, like ‘What Would You Do?’” Trish said, unable to let go of her feeling this was all an elaborate hoax.
Callie glanced at her watch. “Look, I don’t have all day. You’ve heard the deal, I’ve answered your questions, it’s time to give me your answer.”
Her deadline brought all their emotions to a head.
Trish’s face blanched. She lowered her head and pressed her hands to either side of her temples as though experiencing a migraine. When she looked up her eyes had tears in them. It was clear she was waging a war with her conscience.
Rob was jittery, in a panic. No question what he wanted to do—his eyes were pleading with Trish.
Callie knew she had them.
“I’ll give you ten minutes,” she said briskly.” I’ll put my headphones on so you can talk privately, but you’ll have to remain in my sight at all times.”
“How do you know we won’t contact the police after you leave?” Trish said, wearily.
Callie laughed. “I’d love to hear that conversation.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think the police would believe you? Or let you keep a suitcase full of cash under these circumstances?”
Rob said, “Are we the first, or have you done this before?”
“This is my eighth suitcase.”
Again they looked at each other. Then Rob reached over, as though he wanted to stroke the bills.
Callie smiled and closed the top. “Nuh uh.”
“How many people actually took the money?” he asked. There was a sheen of sweat on his upper lip.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?” Trish asked.
“It could influence your decision and impact the social experiment. Look. Here’s what you need to know: when someone takes the money, my boss feels he’s gotten the blessing of a member of society to end the life of a murderer.”
“This is crazy. This is just crazy,” Trish whispered, as if daring herself to believe.
“People die every day,” Rob said. “And they’re going to die whether we get the money or someone else
