Chapter 30
Keith
Taven and I put the body in the truck and drove out to the old man’s trailer to take on the daunting task of disposing a body. Years back, the three of us were tasked with taking care of a snitch. The man was named Jim Horton. We stuck a needle in his neck filled with ten CCs of Everclear. He died almost instantly from alcohol poisoning. To set the scene, we sat a frying pan on the stove, filled it with vegetable oil, and turned the burner on high. To speed up the process, we tossed an oil- soaked rag partially over the burner.
We got away with it. The cops thought Jim had gotten drunk while cooking and passed out, unable to get away from the fire. I hoped the same thing would happen again. The place was a standard single-wide trailer that would go up like a matchbox. It was so far out in the country that the volunteer firefighters would take forever to arrive. If we placed the old man’s body in the correct position, my hope was that they wouldn’t even notice the gash in the man’s neck. If everything went right, the police would think the asshat died of a heart attack while cooking, and the house caught on fire.
After placing a pan of oil on the stove, I turned the heat to high and helped Taven lift the body directly in front of the oven. The corpse’s hand was positioned over the frying pan, and then we dropped the body so the appendage struck the handle. The oil flew through the air, coating the stove and the body. When the electric stove burner turned red, I tossed a small towel on it. It started smoking instantly and caught ablaze. That was our cue to leave.
Taven and I ran to the truck in time to see the fire turn into an inferno. Fifteen minutes later, the house was completely engulfed in flames. I contemplated calling the fire department in case they happened to pass us but banished the thought. What would be our reason for being so far out in the country? Popping the truck into drive, we sped off, and by some wonderful twist of fate, no fire department passed us. The old man was in the boonies; it could take ages for someone to call. I just hoped it didn’t start a wildfire.
When we returned to the park, all three of us went to the gift shop to visit Quinn. She sat in the far corner against the headboard, her knees curled against her chest. Her cheeks were bright red and puffy from crying.
Zane gripped her foot with his hand, offering a slight smirk.
When she looked up, she sucked in a breath and lunged, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and sobbing into his chest. He winced, undoubtedly in pain, but he allowed it.
Running a hand through my hair, I stroked her back. “He got shot earlier tonight, Sweet Pea; you may want to be gentle with him.”
Instantly, she pulled back. There was a look of worry on her face that made me smile. “Shot?”
Zane chuckled, “The old fucker got me.”
“Let me see!” she ordered.
“I already have it wrapped. I’ve been sticking gauze in it and letting it heal from the inside out. Stitches won’t help much.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Let me see.”
The man looked shocked. Slowly, he lifted his shirt, showing off the few specks of blood that leaked through the cloth. The fabric wasn’t saturated, which was a massive relief. The last thing we needed was for Zane to go to the hospital.
Quinn sighed heavily, rubbing her reddened face. “I won’t tell anyone on one condition.”
I was intrigued. “ Do we have to beat you in a fiddle contest?”
She shot me a look, clearly not getting the joke. I would have to introduce her to The Charlie Daniels Band or at least that one song; it was my dad’s favorite. “I want the man who killed Luke.”
Our jaws dropped; that was unexpected. Quinn had tasted blood, but I never in my life would have thought she would go into a frenzy. “Wasn’t it a cop?”
“Isn’t that what you guys do? Kill cops?”
Taven chimed in, “We cased our targets for years. We know where they are going to be and when. We know nothing about your cop, Cupcake.”
Quinn got to her feet, balling her little fists. “I want justice! The man shot Luke and got away with it! Not so much as a slap on the wrist. He’s still walking the beat. I need peace; the only way to get it is for that cop to get what he deserves!”
“I’m a little jealous.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist, and I gently ran my hand through her thick red hair. “For over a year, I have been going insane, just praying that karma would bite him in the ass. My entire life, shitty things have happened to me. People who have wronged me got to walk away scott-free.” She sighed, pressing her head against my chest. “It’s not just petty things, either. When I was fifteen, I was the victim of date rape from my cousin’s boyfriend. He got away with it, and I have never been able to look my family in the face since. I was so close to them, and now, even though what happened to me wasn’t my fault, I can’t stomach talking to them. It ruined my life.”
She sniffled. “I had a dog that I loved more than anything; she bit a kid who was coming at her with a stick, and animal control took her away. I proved she bit him out of self-defense, but they put her down anyway. They claimed it was a mistake, but I couldn’t even sue them. I got robbed once; the kids who broke in literally left a breadcrumb trail from my house to theirs. The cops didn’t do anything. I lost thousands of dollars’ worth of stuff. My dad died because a paramedic wouldn’t take him to the hospital. He was having a heart attack, and they didn’t even take his blood pressure. They talked him out of going because of how expensive it was.” She sobbed, “And then, the man who was going to be my husband was killed because he was playing a game with me.”
A tear streaked down her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb.
“I know it all seems petty, but nothing has ever gone right my entire life. At times, I feel like someone cursed me. Out of all the shitty things that have happened, just once I want someone to pay for their actions. I don’t believe in karma because I don’t think they ever got it in return. I need satisfaction, just for once.”
I pressed my lips to hers and looked deep into her baby-blue eyes. “You shall have it, Sweet Pea.”
Pulling away, I pulled out my phone and brought up my video recorder. “But first, I need you to tell me again what you want us to do to the cop. I want to show him this when we get our hands on him.”
Quinn tucked some hair behind her ear. “I want Officer Rick Moralles dead. I want you to gut him like the pig he is.”
I grinned, as did the others. “Your wish is our command, Sweet Pea.”