I hastily tore the top open and pulled out a single sheet of paper. No check.
I must not only punish, but punish with impunity.
What the fuck?
I turned the paper over, but nothing else was written on it.
This transaction will cancel in thirty seconds.
I looked at the ATM screen and ended my deposit, took my receipt, and moved away. I stared at the slanted, scrawled words, reading it over and over.
Punish with impunity.
Punish who—me?
I took out the envelope. No return address, but it was addressed to the Emporium. Not me specifically, but I was the owner, so it was safe to assume it was meant for my eyes.
Now that my hands had been all over the letter, Neil and evidence collection came to mind, and I carefully folded the paper and gently stuck it into the envelope again. I tried not to handle it too much, like it would make a difference. It had already been through the USPS sorting facilities, Daphne, Max, and myself.
It was starting to snow again as I stepped out of the bank.
I must not only punish, but punish with impunity.
I ducked into a corner shop. I needed to buy food, but more importantly, I needed to be surrounded by other people. That note gave me worse heebie-jeebies than Ann’s murder-mystery story. I looked around. Not many people—an elderly woman at the register, a stock boy putting away drinks, and one pregnant lady with an armful of chips.
The overhead lights were obnoxiously bright, and one flickered like an eye twitch. I grabbed one of the tiny baskets near the door and hastily tossed in a few cans of soup, granola bars, and several yogurt containers from the refrigerated area in the back. I grabbed a carton of chocolate ice cream while I weighed the pros and mostly cons of calling Neil.
Would he care that I was sufficiently freaked out and needed, well,someone? Would he come home if I asked him to? I knew if I asked, apologized, pleaded—of course he’d come back.
But did I want…him?
My gut rolled. It knew the answer, even if my mind wouldn’t admit it.
Would I have said what I had to Duncan earlier in the day if I wanted Neil to come back?
Screw it. I grabbed a second container of ice cream and a frozen pizza for good measure. My basket looked like my diet from college. Guilt made me grab a few bananas from a box beside the loaves of bread before I brought my items over to the counter.
“Flowers?” the woman asked as she slowly counted up each item.
“What?”
“Half-off, all die soon,” she said in broken English while pointing one gnarled hand at the flower display that had been brought back indoors.
“No thanks.”
“Take, half-off,” she insisted.
“I don’t need flowers.”
“For girlfriend.”
“No.”
“For boyfriend.”
“No.”
She gave me a look like I’d just insulted her parents. “Bad attitude. Thirty dollar.”
