“What might that be?” he asked, relishing her apparent puzzlement.
“I have it on pretty good authority that you want to, what was the phrase you mentioned to a fellow inmate, ‘gut me like a pig and bathe in my warm blood.’ In fact, when I visited you in prison that one time, I distinctly recall you made me a promise. Do you remember it?”
“Refresh me.”
“Sure. After all, I committed it to memory. You said ‘I’m going to get a tire iron and beat you until you’re a pulpy mess of shattered bones, shredded skin, and oozing blood. It’s gonna be special.’ Does that sound familiar?”
Kyle stared at her coldly.
“What’s your point?”
“Well, if I’m locked up for a double murder, you won’t get to deliver on that promise. Even if I get the death penalty, it won’t be carried out for a long time and it won’t be you doing the deed. I just thought you wanted to be more ‘hands on.’”
She watched as he looked away, turning over the notion in his mind. As he did, she glanced around for anything she might be able to use as a weapon. Of course, even if she found something, she didn’t know how she’d access it with her hands cuffed behind her back. When she saw him look back at her, she made sure her expression was one of true mystification, devoid of disrespect.
“It’s not as big an issue as you might think,” he told her. “In fact, now that I think about it, there’s something extra satisfying about the anticipation. If you ever do get out, which we both know is doubtful, I’ll be waiting for you. And if I ever get tired of waiting, rest assured, I’ll be able to get to you. I have resources at my disposal. In the meantime, while you rot, I’ll be out enjoying the fruits of my new association.”
“I assume you’re referring to the Monzon cartel in Monterrey?”
“They’re very generous to those who exhibit loyalty,” he confirmed, grinning.
“They’ll eventually learn what we all do when it comes to you, Kyle.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“That you’re not as loyal as they might think and that, in the end, you’re not worth their trouble. When that day comes, it’s going to get ugly for you.”
“Maybe,” he acknowledged, not as offended by the charge as she would have expected. “But in the interim, I’ll have a great time on their dime. Maybe I’ll engage in some risky, potentially criminal sexual behavior. I’ll send you postcards so that when you hear about the victims on the news, you’ll know who did it and that you’re powerless to stop it in the future.”
“That’s your fatal flaw,” she said, sensing that the time for talk was fast concluding.
“What is?”
“Always assuming I’m powerless. I’d think you’d have learned your lesson by now.”
He didn’t respond to that, instead shoving her gun in his waistband and moving over to the kitchen. Jessie knew immediately what he was after: one of the knives from the knife block sitting on the breakfast bar. And in that moment, she realized that for this brief period she had an advantage.
Kyle couldn’t kill her, at least not with a knife or gun. If his scenario—Jessie kills her loved ones and then attempts to commit suicide—was to appear credible, she couldn’t be found with gunshot or stab wounds. He had to show some restraint.
This was her window, when neither Hannah nor Ryan was in immediate danger and Kyle was vulnerable. So she took it. Jumping up and ignoring the plates that fell from her lap and shattered on the floor, she ran toward him. He turned around just in time to see her launch herself at him.
The collision was forceful. Jessie made direct contact with Kyle’s chest area before tumbling past him and slamming her shoulder hard into the side of the breakfast bar and sliding to the floor. Multiple screams of pain rang out in the dimly lit living room.
It took a second for Jessie to realize that one of the voices was hers. Her left shoulder was throbbing in agony and she immediately knew that it was dislocated. She looked over to see that, though he was still standing, Kyle was doubled over, clutching his right clavicle with his left hand. A half cry, half moan was emanating from deep inside him.
Jessie shut out the pain and tried to scramble to her feet. But Kyle, glancing at her through watery eyes, saw what she was doing and kicked her down again. Her back slammed into the base of the breakfast bar. For a brief moment, the pain in her shoulder was masked by the stinging sensation in her back.
“That was a mistake,” Kyle grunted as he stood upright and turned back to the kitchen counter.
Though she couldn’t see it, she knew what he was doing. The sound of a blade being unsheathed echoed through the room. A second later, he bent down to show her the chef’s knife. She took no solace in the knowledge that it hadn’t been sharpened in years. It would still do whatever job he had in mind.
He stepped away from her in the direction of Ryan and Hannah, who was getting to her knees, sending a new round of plates shattering to the ground. As he moved away, Jessie kicked out her leg, tripping him.
He sprawled to the ground, landing hard. She heard him howl in pain a second time and realized that something was clearly wrong with his collarbone. In fact, as he got to his knees, he switched the knife from his right to his left hand.
In that moment Jessie flashed back to the morgue where the coroner had described the hematoma on the back Garland’s skull. Suddenly she knew exactly how he’d gotten it. When he threw himself back into his assailant, he hadn’t made contact with his face. But he had connected with the man’s collarbone. Apparently he’d done some serious damage. And more than that, he’d left one final clue as to the identity of his killer.
Despite his obvious physical distress, Kyle glanced back over his shoulder at her with a triumphant grimace on his face, and then turned back around. Without a word, he plunged the knife into Ryan’s chest.
Hannah screamed. Jessie was too stunned to make a sound. She could only stare at the man she loved, unmoving, likely shrieking in silent agony at the blade embedded in the right side of his torso. Something inside her cracked and numbness washed over her body.
Kyle slowly got to his feet, then pulled her gun out of his waistband. He took several deep breaths before turning to face Jessie. She waited for him to shoot her. She almost hoped he would. Then this nightmare would finally be over.
But not for Hannah.
Somewhere in her desensitized remains, something stirred. Her death would leave her sister alone to face whatever evil Kyle still intended to wreak. And knowing Kyle, that was a lot of evil.
“What were you saying about powerlessness?” he snarled at her. “Looks like you’re going to have to rethink that one, darling.”
He turned back around to look at Hannah, who was still on her knees, surrounded by a sea of splintered china. Jessie knew what he had in store for her and resolved that no matter how futile, she would try to stop him. She wriggled to an upright seated position and noticed something in between the spasms of anguish emanating from her shoulder.
Now that the shoulder was out of its socket she had a sickeningly wider range of motion. She thought that if she could extend her arm further down, she might be able to slide her butt through the hoop of her cuffed hands and then loop her arms over her feet, moving them to the front of her body.