Page 69 of Overkill

“The only way two can keep a secret is if one of them is dead. You gonna make me kill you, son?”

“No.” I shook my head. “But I’ll let you kill me if I tell.”

Another crack of thunder, and the river was as loud as the rain pelting on the metal roof above our heads.

“What would you do with that information?” The power went out, and we were plunged into darkness, save for the faintest light from the window, but we didn’t flinch. We just held each other’s gaze like two enemies who would not turn their backs on each other. “Why the hell do you think you’re entitled to it?”

Were we negotiating now? I’d bite.

“Melody Gray is mine. Mine to protect.” He was the first person I told. Before we had the chance to tell the kids, to tell First Sergeant McClanahan, or even the nosey Taz and Daria. This stranger now knew who Melody was to me.

I didn’t even know if he knew her at all. Did he even care about her?

Then he answered my silent question. “Melody and her mom were good people. They deserved better than what they got.”

We’d found common ground. He offered it like the most dangerous olive branch.

“I agree.” I swallowed, then tried again. “What did you see on the water a year ago?”

“Nothing I hadn’t seen before. It was just the first time Luke Gray got what he deserved.”

My nostrils flared, my fingers curling until I held them in a white-knuckled fist.

“Was anyone else on the boat with him?”

His smile turned psychopathic. A smile that almost dared me to run, to turn from the tale he would tell. But I needed to hear it. I had to bear it.

“There’s always someone on the boat with him.”

Who? Damn it, old man, tell me who. Say it. Put me out of my fucking misery.

“They say he liked to go on the water alone,” I said instead.

“They lied.”

“Who?” Another bolt of lightning struck so close the ground shook. The flash blinded me, and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust and refocus on him.

“Who do you think?”

“How did they not notice you?” I wanted to poke holes in the story as much as I wanted to hear the details. I wanted it not to be true, even when I knew it was.

“You ever notice a leaf on a river?”

“You ever talk plain, or are you always talking in circles?”

He drank from his cup. I was primed and coiled like a snake ready to strike, because I would not put it past him to hit me on the head with his mug just to shut me up.

“You’ve seen him on the river before. With someone else,” I said.

“Someone he should never have been alone with.”

My breaths grew labored.

“Some men have no scruples. Some men hurt people they should be taking care of. Some men call it love, when it’s nothing but their own depraved evil.”

I could barely speak.

He sipped his coffee loudly, then put his mug down with a definitive thump.