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He tried to think of the word for it. A rush. That was it. It was all over so quickly. He wished he could make the feeling last a little longer.
A vibration from his muted phone brought him out of his reverie.
When Matt looked at the phone—one of two he had on him—he was surprised to see the name that came up. Not just because of who it was, but because the person wasn’t using a burner phone, or blocking the caller ID. There was the name, right fucking there. How would this person even have his cell number? And then Matt remembered that a few years ago he hadn’t been quite as careful as he was now, didn’t always have a burner as a backup. He’d learned a lot since then.
Matt took the call.
“Hey,” he said.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You fucked up,” the caller said.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Six years ago. You messed—”
“Shut up. Hang up. I’ll text you a number. Call it. A woman will give you my other number, and then you call that number, and not from your own phone. Think you can do that?”
A pause at the other end. “Yeah, okay, okay, sorry, I got it.”
Matt ended the call and shook his head. He called up his wife’s number and wrote:
SOMEONE WILL CALL. GIVE THE NUMBER.
Matt got out his second phone. The burner. The one he would get rid of on the way home. He waited. And with each passing second, his anxiety grew. What the hell was this person talking about? Fucked up what? It had been six goddamn years, and—
The burner buzzed.
“What?” Matt said.
“Something went wrong on that job. Did you even do it? Did I pay you for nothing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s back.”
“Who’s back?”
“The one you were supposed to … you know, is back.”
Matt’s brow furrowed. “Back?”
“Brie. I’m talking about Brie. She’s been seen.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m telling you, it’s true. There are witnesses.”
“You’ve seen her?”
“I’ve seen enough to know this could be bad. Really bad. For both of us. If she’s back, if she’s alive, you think she’ll have forgotten you?”
Matt went quiet. His skin felt like a hundred spiders were crawling all over it. He hadn’t disguised himself, worn a mask, anything like that on that job. Just like tonight. What was the point? This wasn’t exactly a catch-and-release thing.
“It can’t be,” he said. “She was … she was dead. I felt … the moment.”
