Callie stopped for a moment, inspecting the room. Deciding it was sterile, she headed for the door, pausing only long enough to step over Eddie Ray’s shuddering body. She was done here, was tired of being Monica.
CHAPTER 52
Kathy Ellison had nearly finished walking her golden retriever, Wendy, around her neighborhood circle when she saw a hulking man standing beside a parked sedan directly in front of her. It was mid-morning, a beautiful sunny day, and theirs was a gated community in Marietta, Georgia, just outside Atlanta. Crime was virtually nonexistent in neighborhoods such as Kathy’s, where all houses were priced in the million-plus range.
Even so, the man standing in her path was so huge and his face and head so grossly disfigured, she stopped in her tracks some twenty feet away. Wendy noticed him, as well, or had picked up on Kathy’s fear as dogs will sometimes do. The hair on Wendy’s back slowly began to stand on end. She let out a long, low growl. Kathy decided the sensible thing to do would be to turn around and go home the way she’d come.
As she spun around, she heard the man call her by name. Kathy froze in her tracks, stunned, frightened. There was no reason for this monstrous man to know her name.
“Please, ma’am, don’t be afraid,” he said as he approached. “I don’t blame you for being upset. I have that affect on everyone at first. I can’t help the way I look. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Quinn kept talking as he drew closer. “The best thing to do is just not look at me.” By now, he was standing next to her. Wendy, poor thing, was shivering with fear, wetting a puddle into the pavement.
“Kathy, my name is George Purvis, and I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Kathy hadn’t moved from the spot where she froze after hearing him call her name. She also refused to look at the man standing beside her. That way, she wouldn’t be able to identify him, so maybe he wouldn’t have to hurt her.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Purvis,” she said. “I don’t wish to be rude, but you’re frightening my dog and me. I don’t think I want to hear your bad news. Can I just go home?”
Quinn dropped to one knee, held his hand out for Wendy to sniff . She clamped her jaws on his wrist, growling, tearing his flesh apart. Then she started tugging his hand side to side as if she were trying to break the neck of a large rat.
“Oh my God!” shrieked Kathy. “Wendy, no! Stop it!”
Wendy released his hand. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Purvis. She never behaves this way.”
Quinn just shrugged. “It’s okay, ma’am. I don’t really feel pain the way most people do.” He noticed her staring at his bloody hand. Seeking to remove the distraction, he stuffed it in his pocket.
“Even so,” Kathy said, “I’m so sorry.” She took a deep breath, turned to face him, tried hard not to recoil in horror. She looked into his face, and this time saw more than she expected to find. Her eyes watered thinking of his pain, the emotional scarring. “What’s the bad news you wanted to tell me?”
Quinn looked in both directions before answering. Still on one knee, so as not to tower above her, he said, “It’s about your husband, Brad.”
“What about him?”
“He gave me fifty thousand dollars to kill you.”
Kathy started hyperventilating. She felt light-headed. Her ears began ringing. The only reason she didn’t faint was because she didn’t want the monster to touch her—and he surely would. She moved her eyes about, seeking help, trying to decide how best to get away from him.
“Please don’t run. I’m not going to do it.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been watching you for the past couple of days, and I’ve been watching your husband. I’ve come to the conclusion he’s the one who deserves to die, not you.”
Kathy looked into his face to see if he was just playing with her. She could tell nothing from his expression, but then, his face didn’t really seem capable of displaying much beyond horror. She felt, at least for the moment, he was not planning to hurt her. “Why on earth would my husband want to kill me?” she asked.
Quinn said, “Did you ever watch Seinfeld?”
“The television show or the comedian?”
“The show.”
“Sure. All the time.”
“Me, too. Did you ever see the show about Opposite George?”
“Where he starts doing the opposite of everything he’s done before?”
“Right. And everything started working for him, remember?”
“Yes,” she said. “He goes up to the girl in the coffee shop, tells her he’s bald, unemployed, and lives with his parents.”
“Uh huh, and she likes him! Then he has the job interview and does everything wrong and winds up working for the Yankees.”
Kathy said, “Yeah, I love those shows. I still watch the reruns sometimes. But what does this have to do with not wanting to kill me?”
“It’s like Opposite George. All my adult life, I’ve taken these kinds of jobs, never asking questions, never wondering about the motives, never thinking about the people who had to die. What’s it ever gotten me? Nothing but misery. I have to work, and this is all I know. Long story short, your husband called a guy who called a guy.”
“And now you’ve come,” Kathy said.
“Right,” said Quinn. “Only this time, I started thinking, what if I take the money and don’t do the hit? What’s the worst that could happen?”
Kathy didn’t know how to answer that.
“I watched you, and I may be wrong, but I think you’re a nice person.”
“Well thank you, Mr. Purvis.”
“Actually, my name is Quinn.”
“Okay …”
“It’s not your fault that Brad is screwing around on you.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he’s sleeping with this young girl who works at Neiman Marcus in Buckhead, at the jewelry counter. Her name is Erica Vargas. I’m thinking that’s why he wants you out of the picture, so he can fuck her all the time instead of just twice a week.”
“Please, Mr. Quinn. Your language. It’s appalling!”
“Oh, sorry. Anyway, I think Brad’s a jerk and you could do better.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Quinn, if that’s indeed what it was. But I’m afraid there’s been a terrible mistake. I find it inconceivable that Brad would take a lover.”
“Happens all the time.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure it does, but not to passionless men like Brad. As for him being capable of murder? Impossible.”
Quinn’s hand was suddenly a blur as he snatched Wendy and headed for the sedan. Kathy bolted after him.
“Stop!” she said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking Wendy for a little ride. You can join us if you’d like.”
“Please, Mr. Quinn. You don’t want to do this. Look at her. She’s terrified.”
The giant kept moving toward the car.
“Remember what you said about Opposite George!”
Quinn held the passenger door open. “I’ve already explained my position on that,” he said, “but some things must be seen to be believed. Climb in. If we hurry, we can catch them in the act.”
Kathy looked around. “What has happened to our security guard?”
Quinn waved his injured hand dismissively. “He’s, uh, tending to a family emergency.”
Though Quinn had said it casually, he failed to anticipate the terrifying images that suddenly raced through Kathy’s mind. She began shaking so violently, Quinn feared she might slip into shock.
“Kathy, I promise you, everything’s fine. Think about it: if I wanted you dead, you’d already be halfway to heaven.” He patted the seat. “Now climb in and stop worrying. I’ll have you and Wendy back home in no time.”
Kathy didn’t want to go with the giant. In fact, getting in his car would be dead last on her list of things to experience in her lifetime. But she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Wendy. She took a deep breath and reluctantly climbed into the car and hung her hopes on the idea that perhaps one of her neighbors had seen enough to phone the authorities.