She wriggled, nothing.
'Two… '
'Jacob,' she said. 'Honey?'
But the word was a lie. Even his name was a lie. He had always been Joshua.
' Three. '
She was jerked into the moist night.
'Do her,' Joshua said.
He had Renee pinned to the rail, shoulders leaning toward the river, facing the whispering, frothing water below. Jacob tested the heft of the pipe wrench. How would she hit if she had actually fallen?
No, not 'if.' When.
Think it out, Jakie, just like always. Momma's cane… an accident. Could have happened to anybody. Anybody with a murderous son, that is.
Christine. That one had been the saddest. But she was barely formed, not even talking. All I did was save her from the life of a Wells. So that was a mercy killing.
Mattie. Too bad about her. But she was Joshua's fault all the way, from sperm to burn victim.
The moon was out, the clouds like violet sheep counting down to a restless sleep. He wondered if blood would spatter onto the bridge railing. He'd have to strike her at an angle, so the pattern would fly out and into the water.
'Smash her up,' Joshua urged. 'Just like you did the chickens.'
The wrench grew heavy in Jacob's hand. 'I didn't do the chickens.'
Joshua, holding Renee's arms behind her back, his crotch pressed against her rear, gave a thrust of his hips, causing the wooden railing to squeak with their combined weight. 'Hell, yeah. You went donkeyshit, brother. Chopping their heads off, licking blood from the hatchet-'
'Stop it.'
Red. The night had gone from purple to red.
'You're one sick fuck, all right.'
'Shut up. That wasn't me. It was never me.'
'Tell it to the judge. I got a date with two million bucks.'
'I was only doing what you'd do, if you had the brains.' Jacob gripped the wrench so tight his hand hurt. The metal was slick with his sweat. He thought of the fingerprints he would leave behind. And the DNA, which he shared with Joshua. The DNA one of them had passed to Mattie.
And maybe Christine. He didn't know how often Joshua had slipped into his bed over the years.
The blood in the Chevy would be Joshua's. The cops would figure it out. Even though Jacob had the same blood.
'Do it, Jakie,' Renee wheezed from constricted lungs. 'Just like we talked about.'
Joshua turned toward him, his face as twisted as the rubberized troll heads hanging from the rearview mirror. Confusion. The dumb bastard had been late out of the womb, and had always been two steps behind his entire life.
Jacob swung the wrench.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
'Blood everywhere,' Jacob said, mopping at the stains on the railing.
'No murder is perfect.'
'And you should know.'
'Live and learn. I guess you should go get Carlita. Think you guys will be happy together?'
'What do you care? You're getting what you want.'
'Sure.' With Joshua dead, Jacob would inherit the house. As Jacob's wife, no one would question her receiving it in the divorce settlement.
Jacob leaned over the railing. 'He's downriver now. As drunk as he was, nobody will question a fall.'
Renee glanced at her husband's exposed neck, alabaster in the moon's warm glow. The wrench lay on the seat of the Chevy. She could have it out and bring it down in a matter of seconds.
No. She loved him. And because she loved him, he owed her plenty.
Besides, another 'fall' would be too coincidental. Divorce would be much cleaner.
Jacob didn't know it yet, but Renee planned on taking the two million, too. It wasn't blackmail. It was simply the price of pain and suffering.
'Go to Carlita,' she said.
Jacob came to her, took her hands. He almost kissed her. Then he glanced up at the hill, where the Wells house stood dark and brooding, as if remembering some memory tucked in a far, dusty closet. The first flickers teased the windows, and smoke drifted on the air. Davidson and her crew would be on the way soon, late as always, left to sift through the ashes of the Wells family secrets.
'See you in court,' Jacob said. He walked around the Chevy and slid behind the steering wheel. He looked at home there.
He grabbed the wrinkled pack of cigarettes and stuffed one in his mouth. He lit it, then reached under the seat and pulled out a beer. Warm, it sprayed foam all over his pants when he pulled the tab. He reached up and tapped the twin rubber heads, sending them swinging.
Jacob would never be Joshua, but he would enjoy trying.
He reached for the ignition and the engine burst to angry life. He shifted and backed the car off the bridge, waving before turning off the dome light.
Renee watched the headlight beams bouncing up the road.
She patted her belly.
She'd never mentioned it to Jacob. Three months along.
Of course, on one of those dark nights, it could have been Joshua who entered her bed and rode her into pregnancy. Stranger things had happened.
Not that it mattered.
A Wells was a Wells, after all. One was as good as the other.
And, if things didn't turn out as planned, there was always life insurance for the child.
A woman lived and loved, and a woman often lost. But, no matter what, a woman always learned.
