Faye Kellerman - Suspense Magazine

lue, two-door Honda. Mary frowned. Had one of the kids
gotten a new car? And why would Bobby be home before
his 6:00 p.m. shift ended? He never took time off, but then,
neither did she. Closing the office early never happened.
Today was just a fluke.
She let herself in silently, clutching Bobby’s gift in a white
plastic bag, smiling, hoping this would put Bobby in a good
mood. Maybe they would have a pleasant evening together...
Down the hall, she heard a woman laughing. Not her
daughter. Ice grew in Mary’s heart. She slowed her steps even
more. At the door of their bedroom she saw them jostling
about in her and Bobby’s bed. Some dreadful instinct told her
that this wasn’t the first time her husband brought someone
home when Mary was gone.
The next few minutes were an eerie calm for Mary. She
went into the living room, loaded the gun like an expert and
walked to the door of the bedroom.
“Hi, Bobby,” she said, feeling a bit surreal.
“Whaaaa?” was all her husband could manage before her
gunshot, the first she’d ever fired, found its way to his throat
and silenced him forever.
The woman, someone Mary thought she knew slightly
from Bobby’s Rotary events, screamed once, before the
second shot, also perfect, landed in her temple and ended
her life as well.
Mary, still calm, turned and walked out of the house. The
street was quiet. If anyone noticed her drive up, so be it. She
was planning to turn herself in anyway. Eventually, that is.
No point in pretending it didn’t happen.
She got in her car and started calmly driving, away
from town, away from her office, past the city’s industrial
plant, towards the town where her daughter, Nella lived and
worked. She stopped, turned around and went back to the
industrial plant. As if watching someone else do the deeds,
she broke the gun into three pieces with unusual strength.
She found some vats of bubbling chemicals that smelled
horrible. She dumped each piece separately in three different
ones. She then threw the bullets, accessories, receipt, bag and
all other things connected with the purchase in a big boiling
vat nearby. In the car, she looked at herself in the mirror as if
looking at a stranger. She smiled...so calm. Why, she looked
almost ten years younger, at least.
She carefully brushed the style out of her newly done hair.
With some baby wipes that she kept in the car, she removed
all traces of her makeup. She looked around, and when she
saw she was totally alone, stepped out of her new, expensive
dress and was back into her old, drab work clothes within
five minutes. The dress and new shoes also found their way
into a bubbling tomb.
She drove quickly back to the office, walked around it,
opening it up as if she’d never been gone. She sat down at
her desk and pulled out her checkbook. Two minutes later,
John and Cindy Jacobs walked into the office, Cindy pulling
a defiant looking thirteen-year-old Elizabeth with her.
“Hey, gal, didn’t I tell you to take some time off? Why are
you still here?” John asked, smiling.
“I’m doing some personal stuff.” Mary said sweetly. She
held up her checkbook. “Balancing things.”
“Shouldn’t be hard for you.” Cindy said, admiringly.
“That is the one thing I can’t do. When I was married, my ex
did all that stuff. Can you imagine that? An accountant who
can’t balance her checkbook?”
“Hey girls, I’d love to keep this going, but I’m hungry. I’ve
got a great idea. Mary! Why don’t you and Bobby join me and
Cindy for supper tonight? My treat.” John asked.
“I’m not sure if that would be possible.” Mary said.
“Oh, c’mon, you two never do anything together. Give
him a call.”
“He might not be where he could take a call,” Mary said.
“Isn’t he the foreman at that factory? Sure he can take a
call. Hey, I’ll call myself. He won’t turn me down. What’s the
number there?”
Mary told him and John dialed it. He frowned after
talking with someone for a few minutes.
“Now that’s amazing, Mary. You really should have
closed the office today of all days. I’d forget today’s your
anniversary,” he paused, “he’s home, waiting to surprise you.
He told the fellas he had to go home early. Funny thing, I
thought you got married in May.”
“I did,” Mary said calmly. “May 15, 1975.”
Again, she felt the calm sweeping over her, an odd sense
of peace making her feel as if nothing would ever touch her
again.
John’s frown deepened.
“That’s bizarre. Why would he tell folks he needed off
from work for that reason then? Must be some mistake. Want
to call him at home?”
“Sure,” Mary said, evenly. She dialed the number, listened
and shook her head. “No answer,” she said.
“Well, this is just strange,” John said. He pulled his car
keys out of his pocket and shook them in the air as if it helped
him puzzle the situation out. “Okay, well, never mind. That
leaves you. And it’s not your anniversary. So, you come eat
with me and Cindy. Bobby will just have to fend for himself.
He can do that, right?”
“I’m sure he can,” Mary said.
Cindy and Elizabeth backed out of dinner at the last
second, so that left John and Mary to dine at a small seafood
and steak restaurant on the edge of the town’s picturesque
river. They chatted happily, and before long, the day turned
to evening. As they got back to the accounting office, John
handed her his cell phone.
“Call him again. That’s just out of character for him, to
say he was going home for a reason he wasn’t.”
Mary dialed obligingly.
“Same result,” she said after letting the phone ring a
14 Suspense Magazine September 2011/vol. 026