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Chapter Forty-Five
Gina
Ikind of lied before. I don’t think my husband is really going to kill me. I was just mad. What can I say? Women say things all the time they don’t mean. You know how it is. Certain times of the month, we get a little crazy.
Well, this is that time of the month.
But it turns out I’m not the only one who has lost my mind.
Joel is trying to solve this with diplomacy, but Joel’s not that good of an actor. There’s only one way this can end, and well, it’s sort of my fault for getting us into this mess. I should have told him sooner about Mona. About how I thought she might be doing bad things. She’s my confidant, my best friend, ever since Mama died. She takes care of Daddy, and she takes care of me too, even if it’s in her own way. I know she thinks she’s helping, but look at where it got us.
I grab the shotgun. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it once I get out the door, maybe scare the cop off. It sounds stupid now, but then it’s like someone said “ready, set, action” and I just went with it.
“Get out of here,” I yell, the rifle butted up against my shoulder. The barrel is pointed at his chest. “Mary told us what you did. Now, go on. She says she’ll call you after she thinks it over.”
I can see the confusion on his face, and yes, I’m taking a gamble, betting they had a marital spat recently, but hasn’t every couple? “Go on,” I say, aiming the gun. “She’ll call you when she’s ready to talk. And now is not that time.”
His face looks puzzled. “What—?”
“Gina,” Joel's voice is rough and hard. Serious.
“I don’t play games,” I say. “You don’t want to mess with me. I'm not Mary.”
The dogs are going nuts and Edward Baker stands there looking at me, his eyes darting back and forth. Sweat is pouring down his face.
“Get out of here,” I say again, moving the shotgun ever so slightly.
“Gina,” Joel says. “Put the gun down.”
“Put the weapon down,” Officer Baker shouts.
“And you should get off my property, if you know what's good for you.”
“Gina,” Joel says, taking a step in my direction. His voice is softer now. “Please, put the gun down.”
Baker's eyes are like slits now. His lips are trembling.
It happens so quickly: The officer drawing his gun. The dogs are barking, muzzles open. They’re licking their chops, like they’re about to scarf down a lion. Joel is yelling, and everything is so confusing. I see his finger tighten on the trigger.
I hear the shot. And then everything stops. Time, the whole world, as I watch Joel jump in front of me.
I fall back, and the sound of the gunshot fades. I hear the dogs barking and Joel’s voice, but it is all so far away. My body is numb, and I feel hot, boiling hot, and everything around me is spinning.
I am waiting to feel the pain, but it never comes.
Instead, I see Joel fall to the ground, a pistol falling from his hand.
He is lying on his side, his eyes wide open, his expression frozen in surprise.
Blood is soaking through his white T-shirt. His eyes are open, and he’s staring at me. “Joel,” I say. “Joel, no. Come on. Please. Answer me.”
