“Sure.” Steve answered. Then he nodded grimly back towards the screen. “I think that there were six women he killed or maybe more. I lost count.” Then he turned to the guy seated next to him. “Do you remember how many there were, Josh?”
“Not sure.” Josh shook his head mournfully. “Whole thing makes me sick. It looks like now he’s being tried again. I read online that the crazy motherfucker had been killing for years before those college murders. I heard that those killings opened up an investigation that went back a decade. Hard to believe that no one knew. That no one had been able to see what a sick shit this loser was. He had a wife, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” The bartender nodded. “She was cleared of any complicity though, I guess.”
“She’s the one who turned his ass in.” Steve chimed in again. “Ran him over or some crap.”
“Hard to believe she didn’t know…I mean come on…how dumb can the chick be?” The bartender poured out a couple more drafts.
“Nah, it can happen. I mean, my damn wife was cheating on me for a year.” Josh said. “I had no clue. Too busy working my ass off. I know it’s not the same, but I had no idea where she was when she was with him. She just as well coulda been out blading someone, I wouldn’t have known.”
“Well, that only goes to show that you’re one dumb fuck on so many levels.” Steve told Josh. “You’ve got poor instincts and you’ve got zero common sense. Maybe this psychopath’s wife was the same way.” Then he pointed out by way of illustration. “My sister is one messed up crazy bitch. I told you not to marry her.”
“And I should have listened, I think we’ve already covered this a million goddamn times.” Josh shook his head at his brother-in-law.
“Hey, Tammy’s here. And it looks like she’s brought Christine with her. Could be your lucky day, buddy.” Steve clapped Josh on the back, threw down a twenty dollar bill on the counter and they both disappeared into the crowd.
You’ve got poor instincts and zero common sense. Maybe this psychopath’s wife was the same way.
Hard to believe no one knew. He had a wife, right?
I mean come on…how dumb can the chick be?
No one saw what a sick shit this loser was?
The words ran through Juliet’s mind as she tried hard to keep upright in her stool. The shock was unimaginable. She had never expected to see her murdering ex-husband again, especially not in a sports bar just outside of D.C. At first Juliet couldn’t make sense of it. She couldn’t tell fact from fiction. It seemed as though Kenny had busted his way out of her nightmares and into her reality. When those two worlds collided, Juliet felt it in every core of her being. Her body stiffened like a board, and her arms fell limp at her sides. Juliet’s mouth had gone completely dry and her tongue was a lead weight in her mouth. In the full throes of a violent panic attack, she had lost all motor skills; her vision blurred. Her heart raced.
Then it struck her that another reason that Juliet had been caught so off guard was Kenny himself. When she had first looked at the screen, she hadn’t known who he was. The transformation from man to monster had been alarming in its completion. Gone was any semblance of the young academic she had married. Although it had only been just about three years since his arrest, Kenny had aged a thousand lifetimes. His once thick, shining, carefully coiffed hair now hung in greasy limp strands on his shoulders. Kenny’s nose had been flattened and there was an angry, thick, red scar that ran down the left side of his face. His once lean body was now bloated, his shoulders were slumped and his back bent. The clear, blue eyes that had once looked at Juliet so lovingly, were now glazed over with a thick and impenetrable film of madness.
With shaking hands, Juliet reached into her purse and pulled out the vial of pills. She had not touched the meds in months, but she had held on to them for emergency purposes. And this was definitely an emergency. She slipped three of the small white tablets under her tongue. When Juliet looked up at the screen again, Kenny’s face was gone and had been replaced by the NFL’s starting lineup.
“Hey, Babe.” P.J. sat down on the stool next to her and reached for a wing. “Sorry that took so long. Hey, are you okay? You’re white as a ghost. And you’re shivering.”
“No, I’ not okay.” Juliet said weakly, still trying to gather her wits. “My stomach’s upset. I think all that driving and then the spicy chicken…excuse me.” Juliet put a hand over her mouth and shoved her way passed P.J.
P.J. and the bartender watched as Juliet beelined it to the restroom.
“Do you have any idea what that was about?” P.J. asked.
But Tom Brady had just been sacked by the defensive lineman, and the question was lost in the loud cheers of the customers.
Juliet ran with shaking legs into the restroom. She went right to the sink to splash some icy water on her face. Then she moistened several paper towels, sat on the bench, put the wet wad on the back of her neck, and her head between her knees. Juliet breathed in deep while the image of
