Five years ago, Karin learned from her on-again, off-again boyfriend that Megan was being promoted to supervisory special agent and relocating to Sacramento. It was the sign she’d been waiting for. Time to act. Megan would be three thousand miles away, and Karin could kill her while plausibly being on the East Coast. All it took was planning.
Karin took her vacation in Los Angeles that year. From L.A., she rented a car and drove to Sacramento. She had an unregistered gun, an alibi just in case, and the cold rage necessary to put a bullet or six in Megan’s body.
She followed Megan home from FBI headquarters that day, planning on walking straight up to her, making sure Megan knew exactly why she had to die, and then Karin would put a bullet in Agent Megan Elliot’s head. In her mind, Karin watched Megan’s blood and brains hit the wall. The shock on her face, the panic, the fear. The end.
Karin had been so close to pulling the trigger.
But she wanted Megan to suffer. To pay for her treachery and deceit. At one point, they were supposed to have been practically sisters! Karin had shared everything- nearly everything-with Megan. Karin liked having a trainee who listened to her with rapt attention. Karin had wanted to train Megan the right way, and after, Megan would be to Karin what Karin was to her mother-her protegee, her pawn. Karin would train Megan to kill.
But because of Megan, Karin had been forced to kill her own mother. Because of Megan, Karin had been forced to resign from the FBI. Because of that fucking bitch, Karin was now a nobody.
Killing Megan wouldn’t be entirely satisfying. Making her suffer, on the other hand, would nearly make up for everything Karin had lost.
So in the end, Karin left Sacramento without pulling the trigger. She drove back to Los Angeles, then flew back to Washington, D.C., quit her job, and found a similar position in New York City. She learned everything she could about Megan Elliott-all about her brother, Matt, and her half-sister, Margo. About her ex-husband, Mitch, and her friends and neighbors. She had a whole scrapbook on Megan, and she made plans. Karin considered killing everyone Megan cared about, one by one. Her ex-husband-word was that they were still friends. Then Dr. Hans Vigo, who had been their boss in the D.C. office. He had moved over to Quantico, but Karin could get to him. She could get to anyone.
After Hans, she’d move to her neighbor. Then a colleague. Her best friend from college, who Karin had met years ago. Then her half-sister. And then her brother.
Karin loved the research and the planning and she had been about to put her revenge plot in motion when fate intervened, introducing her to Barry Ethan Rosemont.
When she learned that he’d been tortured by acupuncture, Karin knew right then that she had to learn everything about torture. Because while killing Megan’s friends and family would be satisfying, that would only hurt Megan temporarily. Maybe ruin her life. But physical pain and suffering? Where Karin could watch Megan’s body fight uselessly? Where Karin could listen to her beg for mercy? Where Karin could hear Megan scream? Much more satisfying.
She would slowly, over days, maybe weeks, torture the life out of Megan. Her ex-partner would die slowly and in excruciating pain. Karin even considered kidnapping Megan’s brother, now a high-and-mighty D.A., who Megan had always worshipped. How would Megan react to watching her brother being tortured to death?
But Karin wasn’t a monster. She killed only those who deserved it. That was her pact with herself. It was the way she could justify that her actions were righteous.
She’d saved Ethan’s pathetic ass time and time again. All she wanted in return was knowledge. She wanted to learn how to use those needles as effectively as Ethan. Unfortunately, pulling the information from Ethan’s diseased brain had been harder than expected. Karin had to convince him that the only way he would ever be cured, the only way the nightmares would stop, would be to seek revenge on those who turned him over to the Taliban. It took time. Nearly two years.
But it was worth it.
The needles gave Karin power. She would keep Megan in a constant state of pain. Make her beg to die. Just like Ethan had when he was held captive.
Karin wanted to see that bitch on her knees begging for mercy, begging Karin to shoot her in the head and put an end to the pain. She wanted Megan to see that Karin’s way was the right way and that Megan had ruined everything.
I was given the knowledge of good and evil and I was punishing the wicked for the sake of the innocent. All those who got away. All those who would get away.
For the innocent. For the meek. For those who wouldn’t or couldn’t defend themselves, Karin was their savior, their avenger.
She’d fought and saved herself, hadn’t she?
Because she couldn’t save everyone. She hadn’t been able to save her father from himself. If he hadn’t made her mother angry, if he hadn’t seen things he shouldn’t have seen, Karin wouldn’t have been forced to act. She’d thought Daddy was strong and loved her, but he was weak and pathetic. So ultimately, Judge Standler’s death had been his own damn fault.
“Karin, you have to stop.”
She looked at her daddy and frowned. He was very white and his hands were shaking as he drove the car through heavy traffic in the rain.
“Stop what, Daddy?”
“I know you killed Grandma’s poodle.”
“Why would you say that to me, Daddy?” Tears poured out of her eyes. How had he found out? She’d been so careful. She was always careful.
“Grandma doesn’t know, but I found Daisy’s collar in your desk drawer. Along with your diary.”
“You read my diary?” The tears stopped flowing and anger took their place. So much anger she had no outlet, no way to stop it, molten lava coming up the center of a mountain. The top was going to blow …
“Not just Daisy, but those other pets. You can’t do that, Karin. I–I love you, but I’m scared for you. I want you to see someone.”
He’d read her diary. She’d written everything in her life in that book. About how Margaret Fletcher flirted with Tommy Dressler when Margaret knew that Karin liked Tommy. Margaret kissed Tommy after the softball game when Karin had pitched a no-hitter.
Karin had gone to school with Margaret since kindergarten. So she knew that Margaret had allergies. Lots of them. Like peanuts. She’d seen Margaret go into anaphylactic shock in the second grade when she accidentally took a bite of Dina Huntsberger’s chunky peanut butter and banana sandwich. She didn’t even swallow, but her face turned red and her neck swelled up and Mrs. Burgess had to stick her with a needle to get her to start breathing right.
Tommy wouldn’t like Margaret if he saw her swell up like a balloon and pee on herself.
Karin ground a handful of peanuts into a powder so fine it looked like beige baby powder. The next day at school she walked by Margaret and sneezed in her face, blowing the fine dust of peanuts into the air. Margaret yelled at her, called her a bitch.
You didn’t use those words in Catholic school. Especially not when Sister Pauline was walking by.
But before Sister Pauline could take her to the office, Margaret started choking. Her face turned red and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Sister Pauline acted fast, pulled an epinephrine kit from Margaret’s backpack, and stuck her with a needle.
Karin watched in amazement as Margaret thrashed on the floor of the hall, wheezing. Sister Pauline told her to get the nurse and another epinephrine kit. Karin did, running as fast as she could. She didn’t want anyone to blame her. And it gave her time to wash her hands, after getting the nurse.