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“This girl is a natural,” the range manager had said the first time they practiced together. “I pity the poor sucker who crosses your daughter.”
In New York, it was difficult to get a concealed carry permit. But when Shelly had first worked at the hospital, she had been mugged walking to her car, giving her a reason to get one.
She kept the gun in a portable safe in a cabinet above the fridge. Climbing up on a stool, she carefully brought the safe down to the table. After keying in the lock combination, she took the gun and the ammunition out of the safe.
Then, with a soft cloth and a special oil her father had given her, she wiped down the gun and set it aside just as Alan appeared, dressed for work with his hair wet from the shower.
“I smell gun cleaner. What’s going on? You making preparations to do away with me?”
Smirking, she shook her head. “I’m meeting my dad at South Shore Gun Range.”
“I should go with you.”
“Do you want to?” she asked, watching him.
“I wish I could. I’ve got to get to the office this morning to meet with the prosecutor about some evidence in the last Gilgo Beach murder case.”
“Alan, it’s unlikely the prosecutor is going to be in the office on a Saturday. You need to up your game.”
“It’s the truth. Come along with me.”
“You know I wouldn’t embarrass you like that, so stop using an invitation tocome alongas a way to justify whatever the hell you’re doing.”
Biting his lip, he looked at her for a moment before leaving the kitchen without saying more. It was hopeless. Maybe if they got into an argument, she could clear the air, but he wouldn’t argue with her.
She heard the front door open and close and the sound of his car starting. He was going to leave without saying goodbye.
When she arrived home three hours later, he hadn’t returned. Grabbing the gun safe from under the seat, she went into the house. There was no sign that he’d been there. She repeated cleaning the gun and left it on a towel, then washed her hands at the kitchen sink. When she turned the water off, she heard his car pulling into the driveway. Waiting for him to come inside as she leaned against the counter, she decided to let him do all the talking.
The door opened and closed, with no sign of Alan. The squeaky sound of the shower being turned on made her hackles rise. Why would he need to shower again? A wave of heat spread through her body, but she wouldn’t react. The thing about her personality that made her a perfect trauma unit nurse was her unwavering calm in the midst of chaos, and it would come in handy now.
A planner and a plotter, Shelly could go over details of a nursing procedure for days before executing it with perfection. In the hospital, she was known for implementing everything she did with precision. Shelly was the nurse designated to run a code or orient new resident doctors to the unit.
Now, as she lingered in the kitchen, waiting, she was at a loss. Something had to be done, but the choices she had been dealt were unappealing. After baring her life and her body to Alan, she didn’t see how living in the same town with him was compatible with happiness.
The door to the bedroom opened, and he came out in jeans and a T-shirt with a towel around his shoulders.
“I’m starving. Anything to eat?” he asked, giving her a peck on the cheek.
“Knock yourself out,” she said, nodding toward the refrigerator. “Where were you?”
“I had to interview the family of the last victim discovered at Gilgo Beach.”
“Wow, that’s really dragging on.”
“Yeah, nothing goes as fast as you think it should, that’s for sure,” he said. “How was the gun range?”
She finally smiled. “Great. I love spending time with my father.”
He picked up her gun and examined it, moving its parts, looking down the short barrel. “Okay, I’ll get something to eat, and then I’m in front of the television to catch the game.”
She just stared at him, not even bothering to suggest they spend some time together, because she no longer wanted to spend time with him. Did he notice she’d stopped trying to engage him? She had an agenda, or she’d be back home with Mom and Dad.
“You go ahead and watch your game,” she said, deciding she’d treat herself to cake and coffee at a bakery in town. That afternoon might be the last time they would speak.
He didn’t respond, taking a sandwich out to the living room after leaving the makings all over the counter. Usually, she’d clean up for him, but not today. Instead, she reached under the sink for her rubber gloves and grabbed the right one. Threading her fingers into the glove, she picked up the gun, covered with Alan’s prints, and put it back into the case.
An idea had been conceived in the previous days, and as it festered, it grew, and her methodical brain refined details that she’d focus on until the plan could be carried out.
