Chapter 1
The worst part of a murder is the digging.
Surely, there had to be a better way.
James Johnson wiped the sweat off his forehead and folded his arms on the top of the upright shovel's handlebar. He figured what? Maybe six, eight more inches?
No use postponing it. Better hurry up and finish. The sun had already started to set and soon it would grow dark. A course shiver racked his body, and he wondered if the culprit was the cool evening breeze or the task he was undertaking. He turned back toward the ground and continued disturbing its peace.
Once James finished digging the hole, he dragged the body and dumped it in. He stared at it and contempt made his stomach boil. "Goodbye, Bobbye," he said.
He knelt down and grabbed a handful of golden hair. With his other hand, he reached for the scissors and began to cut away. "You'll be all right once all of this ugly mop is gone. You'll see."
He grabbed another handful of hair and continued to hack away. Its silky texture against the palm of his hand horrified him. As though he had been burned, he jerked his hand back. The young woman's body crashed back into her newly dug grave.
"You're not Bobbye," he told the dead woman. Vacant eyes stared back at him. "You don't even know Bobbye, do you? You'd like her. When she gets to be your age, she'll probably look a lot like you. Same damn blond hair." James reached down, grabbed some more hair, and continued to chop.
"I'll get you, Bobbye. I swear you'll be next."
He picked up the shovel and continued with his hideous task. It took him less than thirty minutes to bury the body. Tomorrow the truck would come to pour the cement. Construction on the swimming pool would continue. He wondered if the first time he dove into the sparkling pool, he'd think about the blond-headed nameless woman who was buried there.
He walked into the study, picked up the phone, dialed, and waited for an answer. "Maria, put my wife on," he told the maid.
"Sorry, senor, but Ms. Kathy--she no want to talk to you. She still mad."
"Put her on."
James heard the phone being set down. Seconds later, a rustling sound indicated the phone was picked up. "James." The familiar softness in Kathy's voice had vanished. "I'm leaving you and I'm taking Bobbye with me."
The hum of a disconnected line buzzed in James' ear. He stared at his wife's portrait enclosed in a heavy oak frame on the opposite side of his desk. Her thick, jet-black hair contrasted to the mahogany framework. Slowly, he stretched out his hand, curved his fingers into a claw-like position, and scratched the image of his wife.
* * *
Kathy's heart pounded so hard she was afraid it was going to explode. She took in deep breaths and exhaled slowly. She had done it. She had actually told him she was leaving. She was proud of herself. She had to do it. For Bobbye's sake. For her sake.
She had been with him now for five years, and in all fairness to James, they all hadn't been bad years. In fact, the first year had been, if not ideal, at least bearable. Then she became pregnant.
James stared at her and between clenched teeth he hissed, "Get an abortion." He stormed out of the room.
Kathy had refused and in the end, he agreed to let her keep the baby provided she promised it would be a boy. She knew, of course, that she couldn't promise him anything like that, so she said, "For your sake, I hope it's a boy." She couldn't look at him in the eye, so she looked away. "But I can't promise you that."
"His name will be Robert and he will have black hair like yours." He pointed a finger at her to emphasize his words.
Nine months later, blond-headed Bobbye Johnson was born and nothing was ever the same again.
The ringing of the phone brought an end to Kathy's brooding. It also sent adrenaline pumping through her body. She let the phone ring a long time before she picked it up. "Yes?"
"Kathy, I've got a surprise for you." James' voice sounded as if nothing was wrong between them. "I'm here at our cabin. I'm having a pool put in because I know how much you love to swim. What do you think about that?"
Kathy let out a long-drawn sigh. "I already told you. By the time you get back home, Bobbye and I will be gone." He didn't answer and Kathy messaged her temple.
At long last he said, "You've talked before about going to a counselor."
"Yes, we have. We've talked about it many times, but you've never done it."
"If it means that you'll stay, I'll go with you."
"The counselor is for you."
James laughed. "Darling, why would you think I need a counselor?"
"Ever since Bobbye was born, you've changed." She sounded like a broken record. How many times had she told him this before?
An awkward pause passed and Kathy knew she should slam the phone down, grab Bobbye and whatever items she could, and get out.
Then she heard James say, "Kathy, in spite of what you think, I love Bobbye. She is my daughter. But if you feel that a counselor will help, then we'll go."
"It's too late now." This was the first time she had verbalized her doubts. She loved James and she had wanted her marriage to work, but now it was too late and the thought left her feeling cold and empty.
"If you leave me, Kathy, you won't get a single penny." James' tone carved Kathy's heart with an ice knife. "Think of all that money you'll never be able to spend. Then think of Bobbye. How is she going to feel when she finds out she could have been a rich little girl? If you leave me, Kathy, you can kiss all of that money goodbye."
I know. I know. I'm so confused. Aloud, she said, "I need to think. I'm going to go out for a drive. Call me in an hour." She slammed the phone down, grabbed the car keys, and ran out of the house.
All she had ever wanted was a happy family life. When her parents got divorced, she had promised herself that she would always love her husband. Sure, at times he was distant, but he wasn't a bad man. Not really.
Failing to buckle up, she threw the car in reverse and sped away. If she stayed with James, she would live like a queen. Already he was becoming a very influential figure in the world of finances.
Kathy glanced down at the speedometer. She was doing fifty in a thirty-mile zone. What was she thinking?
She was thinking about James and Bobbye. Why didn't James love Bobbye? She was an adorable three-year old. But the way James looked at Bobbye when he thought Kathy wasn't looking frightened her. There was an evil glint in his eyes.
But that was ridiculous. James was not a murderer. He wouldn't harm Bobbye. She had only imagined the look. Everything was in her mind. James was okay. She was the one who was all messed up. After all, didn't the world worship him? He was a hero in everyone's eyes.
Tears blurred her vision and she angrily wiped them away. In so doing the car swerved sharply to the right. Immediately Kathy turned the steering wheel to the left.
My God, was she really doing seventy? She needed to slow down. Who would protect Bobbye?
Protect Bobbye? From whom? Not James. Oh God, not James. This man was her husband. Why would Bobbye need protection from him?
The sobs, which raked her body, stole her breath away. She gasped and pounded the steering wheel. "Bobbye is safe. James is okay. It's all in my mind."
The constant blast of a horn brought her back to reality. Bright lights heading directly toward her blinded her. She swerved to avoid the head-on collision, but even as she did, she knew she was too late.
"I love you, Bobbye!" she screamed.
The crushing of metal, followed by a bolt of pain turned Kathy's world first a soft gray then a pitch black.
* * *
Kathy knew she should open her eyes, but part of her wanted to stay in this never land where there was no pain, no sorrow. But if she stayed, who would take care of Bobbye?
That sudden thought forced her to open her eyes and wish she hadn't.
The first thing she saw was James' face.
"What. . ." Why was it so painful to talk? "Wh. . .where. . .?"
"Hush," James said. "You're in the hospital. You've been in a horrible car accident. Do you remember the accident?"
Did she? She remembered. . .fighting! Fighting for Bobbye. Why? Her mind was so confused.
"Bob. . .bye."
"She's home with Maria."
"Who'll. . .watch. . .Bob. . .bye?"
A shadow moved past James' eyes. Had she imagined it? No. She was dying and suddenly she knew. With a strength that surprised her and James alike, she reached for James' arm and squeezed it. "If I ever meant anything to you, if your dream to succeed is so important to you, then promise me, Bobbye will be safe with you."
James tried to yank his arm away, but Kathy's grasp was strong.
"Promise me!"
James hesitated for a second-an eternity to Kathy. Then he looked her straight in the eyes and said, "I promise."
Kathy released her grip on him and sank back onto the bed. Who will take care of my Bobbye? She wanted to ask him this but instead she said, "James, why do you hate your daughter so much?"
She gasped for air and slowly closed her eyes.
* * *
At the eulogy, James sat in the front row. He could not comprehend the meaning of the words the clergyman said. His thoughts were elsewhere.
He had been lucky, he knew. He'd killed several times, but none of those deaths had touched him. In a way, he'd been responsible for Kathy's death and now that she was gone there was a vast emptiness deep inside of him. Had he actually loved Kathy? He never thought he'd be able to love a woman, but here he was feeling empty, sad. There would be a void within him that would never be filled.
He had promised Kathy that Bobbye would be safe. That was a promise he intended to keep. He knew that the only way she'd be safe was if he sent her away.
He also realized that the killings had to stop and the only way to accomplish this was to shut down all of his emotions. From here on, he would never feel a thing. Not love, not hate, not joy, not sadness. Not even anger-especially anger. From here on, he would be a man with no emotions.
He could do this.
He had to do this.
End of Chapter One
