Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. Vol. 133, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 811 & 812, March/April 2009

“Your mother called it right. If anything happens to Bennett, the law will be all over me and my sons. But the Daniels woman is a different matter. They won’t be expecting that, especially not from you. If I set it up right, you’ll get away clean. And if not, well, you’re a simple schoolteacher who lost his mother and sister. Maybe you’ll get the benefit of the doubt. One of them Valhalla verdicts. Me and Bo definitely won’t.”

“But if I...” I swallowed, hard.

“Kill her. Say it.”

“If she dies first, won’t that make Bennett even harder to get to?”

“For a while. But he’ll be scared spitless the whole time. Waiting for his number to come up. Could be he’ll get nervous enough to make a mistake.”

“What kind of a mistake?”

“Maybe he’ll take a run at me or Bo. If he tries that, it’ll be the last thing he ever does. Or maybe he’ll confess, and take that perjury fall you mentioned.”

“Why would he do that?”

“To a frightened man, a jail looks like a safe place. Stone walls surrounded by guards. Serve a few months, wait for things to cool down. But I’ve got contacts inside, guys who’ll do Bennett for a carton of cigarettes. If he ever steps through a cell door, he won’t come out.”

“And if he doesn’t confess?”

“Then I’ll let him sweat awhile, then take care of him myself. Up close and personal.”

“You can’t possibly get away with it.”

“I don’t expect to,” Deke said simply. “If I die in the joint over this, so be it. That’s my problem. Fawn Daniels is yours, if you got the belly for it. I know it goes against your nature, Paul, but it’s the only way. If you want out, say so now.”

I looked away, avoiding his eyes. Found myself staring at my mother’s casket instead. I knew what she’d say to this. But she couldn’t talk me out of it. Nor could Lisa. Never again.

“I said I’m in, Uncle Deke. I meant it. What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing for a few days. If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

“Then go back to your life and stay cool till I contact you. Bo will come by with instructions. When that happens, you’ll probably have to move fast. Understand?”

I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“Say it!” he snapped.

“I understand!”

But I didn’t. Not really.

I stumbled through my mother’s funeral service like a zombie, going through the motions. I read her eulogy and laid a final rose on her coffin as they lowered it into the ground. And didn’t understand any of it.

She was laid to rest beside my father, who was killed long ago in the First Gulf War. And beside Lisa and her unborn child. Buried so recently the earth was still raw over the grave. As raw as the jagged wound in my heart.

Somehow I managed to teach classes over the next few days, but I must have asked myself a thousand times how it all happened. The two funerals, so close together, had shattered my life. Everything was spinning wildly out of control.

Our branch of the family was suddenly reduced to an army of one. Me. And I was waiting for my uncle’s instructions to murder a woman I’d never met.

My God, how had it come to this?

Then I’d see Mel Bennett doing an interview on television, offering a million-dollar reward for the arrest of Lisa’s killer. Smiling all the while.

And I’d get a quick memory flash of Lisa’s smile. Or my mother’s.

And I’d remember exactly how it all happened. And what I had to do now.

Ten days later, I was walking to my car after the day’s classes when a black Cadillac Escalade pulled up beside me. Bo La Motte climbed out, glancing around to be sure we were alone.

“Put these on,” he said, stripping off a pair of black leather gloves. “The Caddy’s stolen, so you’ll have to move quick. Fawn Daniels jogs along the lake-shore after work. There’s a hundred-yard stretch near Michikewis where the shore road parallels the beach. Run her down there, just like Lisa. Put that bitch in the ground! You sure you’re up for this?”

I nodded, too shaken to answer.

“Afterward, dump the Caddy in the supermarket lot downtown, then walk to Valhalla Park. We’re having a family barbecue this afternoon. Twenty witnesses will swear you were there the whole time. Gimme your car keys. Move!”

As I fumbled them out of my jacket, he grabbed my arm.

“One last thing, Cousin. You remember all the times I stood up for you in school?”

“I remember.”

“Good. Because if anything goes wrong, if you get stopped, get stuck, whatever, you dummy up and take the weight, understand? If my dad does one day in prison because of you, Paulie, I’ll make up for every beatin’ you ever missed and then some!”

Scrambling into my Volvo, Bo sped off.

A moment later I was on the road too, heading for the lakeshore in a stolen Cadillac SUV. Taking deep breaths. Pumping myself up. For a killing.

I didn’t question the justice of it. Fawn Daniels helped arrange my sister’s death, and by standing mute on the witness stand, she’d gotten Lisa’s killer off scot-free. And put my mother in her grave.