Even though she didn’t know how else to say thank you for all he’d done in the past with Dad.
He’d always suspected she’d felt that way after he’d stood up for her in a manner no man had ever done before.
A year ago, when she’d seen their father stealthily looking at eleven-year-old Wendy like he’d looked at Farah when she was the same age whenever he got home from a business trip…
Then…
A flash…
Another memory—
A birthday dinner for Noah, the four of them gathered around the table, thirteen candles flickering on a cake.
Gazing at Gavin, wanting to cling to him and never let him leave on one of his own business trips, which he seemed to be taking more and more these days, ever since Dad had gone.
Wendy and Noah, frowning as they watched her. Noah, wrinkling his brow, then blowing out the candles so the table went dark…
A tumble of memories:
Wendy, casting odd, assessing glances at Farah every once in a while, especially when they were with Gavin. Noah, trying to figure out Gavin, then reaching out to Farah and offering brotherly comfort whenever Gavin wasn’t there.
Noah, who would do anything for her, too… .
Back to the first memory—
Gavin with his back turned to her, looking out that window, his words floating in the air—“She loves someone else. Not me. That’s what she did.”—as he walked away, his pride smashed.
Intolerable. Unthinkable.
Getting into the car, driving to Elizabeth’s condo, waiting outside, seething because she was a heartless bitch. Watching as her Corvette rolled out of the garage. A gift that Gavin had given her two months ago for her birthday.
Following her up a shore-lined freeway as night pulled itself over the sky like a blanket over a corpse.
Elizabeth, taking an off-ramp, driving into a deserted beach-access parking lot, as if she’d seen this car following her.
Parking there, too, getting out of the car, yelling, “Who do you think you are, you cunt?”
Elizabeth, holding up her hands in entreaty. She looked so fresh in her white dress and a scarf draped over her shoulders, her light hair like an old-time movie star’s, flirted with by the wind. Why should she look so good when she was bad to the core?
“Calm down, Farah. Let’s talk about this.”
Calming down. Nodding. Pretending, when all the while, hate was hissing inside like a building scream.
No one treated Gavin like this.
Had to fight for him just as much as he’d fought for her.
Elizabeth, smiling sheepishly as she began walking toward a dirt path under the emerging moon.
“Come with me. We used to take walks together,” she said. “I would hate for that to stop.”
No answer. Couldn’t answer. Too much hate to answer.
Elizabeth, offering excuses for betraying Gavin and betraying the whole family.
Hatred, swelling.
“I hope we can still be friends after all this.”
A laugh, stabbing the quiet air.
Noticing that no one else was around out here. Just the night and the tall grass and a pond close by.
“Maybe in time.” Elizabeth, smiling again.
That self-satisfied smile, full of knowing that she could get away with any damned thing she wanted to and would never suffer the consequences. Why were some people that lucky?
How many consequences have I had to suffer? Why me and not her?
A blast of anger. Hands reaching out to grab Elizabeth’s scarf, whipping it around her neck, pulling on both ends.
Felt good. So good.
The bitch, gagging, clutching at the scarf. The bitch’s eyes bulging, the bitch choking, a sound sweeter than the bitch’s fucking magical laugh that seemed to enrapture everyone who heard it.
Especially Gavin.
Then the bitch, on the ground, eyes as blank as the moon that loomed overhead.
Happy that she was out of their lives and she would never hurt anyone again.
Ecstatic.
Then… reality.
Waves rushing in from the nearby beach. Head, muddled. Murder. Dead.
Panic.
No one around. Adrenaline racing while dialing the phone.
“Noah, help. I did something. I have no idea what got over me.”
Noah, arriving, in spite of not having a license yet. Didn’t matter for people like them. People with money.
Noah, crashing through the tall grass, dropping to his knees by the bitch. “What the fuck did you do?”
Not sure. “Help me? God, how am I going to get out of this?”
Noah, looking like he didn’t know the stranger who was standing in front of him.
But… an idea. A morbid one, yet one that no one would ever pin on a socialite.
“Noah, I could go to jail forever. I didn’t mean to do this. Please, if you love me, help me?”
“You know I do.”
“You don’t want me to suffer in jail. I’d never make it there. All for one and one for all, like I’ve been telling you since the day you came into our house. Right, Noah?”
“Okay.” In tears. So young, so impressionable. So useful tonight.
Noah, taking off to go home and return with a long knife from their father’s hunting collection and a saw.
Dragging Elizabeth far off the path and into the tall grass, where no one would see her.
Knife… stabs. Many stabs, like a psychopath who’d found her walking alone in the night. Then the saw.
A cover story.
“A random, deranged killer. That’s who did it, Noah. No one will ever know it was me, especially after we dump the knife and saw as far as we can in that pond.”
Noah’s face, slack. Skin pale as he retched but didn’t throw up.
Good. Can’t leave any obvious DNA behind.
Washing off blood from skin, scrubbing blood and fingerprints off weapons in the nearby pond off the trail. Cleaning up everything as best as possible. Drag marks, evidence that might’ve fallen off their own bodies.
One last look at the bitch with the bloody white dress covering a now-anonymous torso, then the detached head. Food for the animals.
Throwing the bloody scarf in the pond, far enough from the shore yet near enough to still see it floating on the water under the moonlight.
A flash:
A sunny day, by the pool all alone, peaceful, lying out on a lounge chair, the trees winter-bare, the sun unseasonably warm. Phone ringing.
Noah, on the other end. “You know what day this is?”
“You always have to mention her anniversary, don’t you?”