Releasing The Pain

Crime Fiction by Kevin Hopson

I stared at the back of the woman, her coffee-tinted hair resting along her shoulders as she munched on a blueberry muffin. Though I couldn’t see her face from where I sat, I knew it was Lauren. I watched her enter the diner earlier, and she matched the photo her husband Shane had given me.

But if there was any lingering doubt, it was quickly extinguished when the lone waitress referred to her by name. It wasn’t a surprise given the small town and how often Lauren frequented the place.

“You did good,” a woman’s voice said, startling me.

I turned my head to look. It was Hannah. The waitress. She’d sidled up to my table like a stealthy cat hunting down its prey.

“Pardon?” I replied.

“That plate of yours,” she elaborated. “You cleaned it up so well, Larry may not even need to wash it.”

I’m assuming this Larry guy washed dishes in the back.

Hannah winked an eye at me. “I’m just pulling your leg. That wouldn’t be very sanitary, but you were obviously hungry.”

It was true. I hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. That’s because last evening’s dinner plans were ruined when I was asked to kill someone. 

“I caught you eyeing Lauren over there,” Hannah said, tilting her head in the woman’s direction.

Damn it.

So much for trying to be discreet.

“Actually, I was eyeing the man at the other booth,” I lied. 

Hannah’s brow furrowed, and she stared at the man. I could only hope she bought my fib.

“And why’s that?” she asked, meeting my gaze again.

“He looks familiar. Do you know him?”

Hannah nodded. “Benjamin Brown. He’s a local rancher.”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell, but maybe I’ve seen him around.”

She glared at me. “I know everyone in this town. And prior to today, I’d never seen you before. I just assumed you were passing through.”

I shook my head. “No. But I am new in town.”   

It was another lie.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Really? Where do you live?”

“Over on Stonybrook.”

“I don’t know of any places available there.” Then she perked up. “Unless you bought Dylan Clark’s place. He just moved away.”

“That’s the one,” I said.

Hannah studied me. If I had to wager a guess, she was still skeptical, but her face eventually eased. “Can I suggest something?”

“Sure.”

“Try our apple pie. It’s second best in town.”

“For breakfast?”

She shrugged. “I ate pie for breakfast all of the time as a kid.”

As much as I enjoyed the plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns, something sweet would help counter the saltiness of the meal.

“Sounds good,” I said. “But it’s only second best in town?”

“That’s right.”

“Who has the best?”

Hannah grinned. “Come to my place and see. My pie will blow your mind.”

I let out a chuckle. Hannah headed back to the counter, returning with a plate of apple pie a couple of minutes later. As she rested the plate in front of me, Hannah caught a glimpse of something.

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” she said.

Hannah bent over and extended her hand, reaching for the necklace. When I grasped her wrist, Hannah winced, her eyes going wide.

“I’m sorry,” I said, relinquishing my grip on her.

Hannah took a step back and exhaled. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” I waved a dismissive hand at her. “It’s my fault. I’m just protective of it. It belonged to my wife. May her soul rest in peace.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

Hannah pursed her lips and forced a smile. “Enjoy your pie.” It was all she could muster before retreating into the kitchen.

I dug into the pie, and I had to admit that it was the best I’d ever eaten. I couldn’t imagine there being a better slice of pie in the world, so if Hannah’s claim was true, I was tempted to take her up on her offer.

Halfway through my dessert, I noticed Lauren get up. She walked in my direction, so I put my head down, hoping she wouldn’t pay me any mind. Once she passed, I glanced over my shoulder, watching as she turned the corner and headed toward the restrooms.

Now was my chance. I grabbed a few napkins from the holder and wrapped the rest of the pie in it. It was too delicious to leave behind. Then I slid the wallet from my jeans pocket, pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the fold, and left it on the table for Hannah. It would cover my meal and her tip.

I pushed my way through the door and into the parking lot, spotting my car on the far side of the lot. I unlocked the car with the press of a button, eased behind the steering wheel, and started the ignition before closing the door. Then I ate the rest of the pie as I waited on Lauren.

She exited the diner a few minutes later, taking off in her silver sedan. I followed her to a nearby grocery store, parking far enough away to avoid detection.

Up to that point, Shane had been right. Lauren visited the diner for breakfast the same day each week, then went to get groceries afterward. According to Shane, she could take anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour to shop, which gave me plenty of time.

I headed for Lauren’s place and parked my car down the street. Her closest neighbor lived a quarter mile away. He was a single man who owned a flower shop in town. Shane told me the man rarely missed a day of work and wouldn’t be home until long after I was gone, so I parked in his driveway, put on a pair of gloves, and walked to Lauren’s house.

Shane had given me a key to their small, two-story house. The plan was for me to surprise Lauren there. After handling my business, I’d ransack the place and bash in the back door just to give the impression of forced entry. Coupled with Lauren’s lifeless body, it would look like a robbery gone bad.

My payment was supposed to be in a shoebox on the top shelf of their bedroom closet, and that’s exactly where I found it. Shane was skeptical about paying up front, but I told him that’s how I worked. If he didn’t like it, he could find someone else.

Thankfully, I was good at persuading people, so Shane trusted me to hold up my end of the deal. I was a man of my word, and I had no intention of going back on it.    

As I waited for Lauren to arrive home, I pondered. I had a duffel bag in the trunk of my car. It included a change of clothes, a fully-charged electric shaver, and a hair color kit. Once I was done with the job, I’d shave my mustache and dye my hair.

Since I had no permanent residence and was always on the move, I’d developed a fondness for Love’s. The company had travel stops all over the country, and truckers always swarmed to them. That’s because their large convenience stores also housed showers, which I often used myself. After losing the mustache and coloring my hair, I’d come out looking like a new man.

It was nearly an hour later when the sound of a car engine caught my attention. It grew louder, eventually going silent. I peeked out the bedroom window, spotting Lauren’s car in the gravel driveway. I walked toward the bedroom door and hid behind it.

Soon after, I heard the front door open and close. This continued a few more times as she retrieved all of her groceries and brought them into the kitchen. A banging of cabinets ensued, and I assumed she was putting items in the refrigerator as well.

A breath escaped my lips. I’d learned to be a patient man, and it proved beneficial during times like this. Then came a creaking of stairs. I stiffened against the wall, trying to be still.

There was a crack of light between the door and the frame, and I noticed a figure in the hallway. Soft footsteps followed, and Lauren finally appeared in the bedroom, her back to me as she lay her purse on the dresser.

I quickly closed the door and locked it. Lauren spun around, her eyes bulging at the sight of me. She gasped and took a step back.  

“Who are you?” she stuttered.

I didn’t reply.

“What do you want?” she asked, her breathing now labored.

I put a hand to my back pocket, prepared to pull the knife from its resting place, as I gradually approached Lauren. She retreated against the far wall but had nowhere to go. Lauren looked around the room frantically as if searching for something to use in her defense.

When she locked eyes with me again, I stopped in my tracks. I’d noticed similarities in the photo but now that I finally saw Lauren up close, the resemblance was uncanny. My mouth hung agape, and I left the knife in my pocket.

“You look just like her,” I managed to spit out.

Lauren’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

“My wife,” I said.

The blue eyes. The thin lips. The two dimples at the corners of her mouth.

“Take whatever you want,” Lauren pleaded. “Just please don’t hurt me.”

I debated what to do, but memories flooded my mind, clouding my thought process. I had visions of the day I first killed. When I took my wife’s life, along with the man she was bedding.

I hadn’t planned on killing them, nor had I planned to become a hitman for people who wanted their cheating spouses dead. But here I was.

During my travels, I was shocked to learn how many people had relationship problems. Even more surprising was how much people would open up to a stranger like me. Then again, I tended to visit bars quite frequently, so there were plenty of people willing to spill their guts. Both figuratively and literally.

Sometimes it wouldn’t take long to find my next job. But I had one condition when it came to clients. “Don’t ask me why,” I would tell them, referring to my reason for taking up the profession. It was too personal, and it was an immediate deal breaker for me. 

“Please,” Lauren said, snapping me from my trance.  

I pulled my hand away from the knife, refusing to grip it. I’d never failed at my job, but now that was in jeopardy. As much as I tried, I couldn’t go through with it.

***

I was at a rest stop twenty miles away when I finally made the call on my burner phone. I sat behind the steering wheel, still trying to collect myself.

“Were you successful?” Shane asked.

I took a moment to ponder.

“Hello?” he said.

“There was an issue,” I finally answered.

“What does that mean?”

I pursed my lips.

“What does that mean?” Shane shouted.

“Just give me a minute to explain.”

“I’m giving you thirty seconds. And if I don’t like what I hear, I better find that money in the shoebox when I get home.”

“I know we discussed how you wanted things handled, but there was a change of plans.”

“Enough stalling. Just tell me what the hell happened!”

“I couldn’t kill her.”

I heard a frustrated breath on the other end.

“With the knife,” I elaborated.

“What?”

“I couldn’t kill her with the knife. I know you wanted her to suffer, but I was forced to go another route.”

“But she’s dead?”

I swallowed. “Yes. A bullet to the head. It was quick, but it left no doubt.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d have a gun on you.”

“I always carry one just to be safe.”

“Well, I guess in this case, it was a good thing.”

I sat in silence for several seconds before speaking again.

“Everything else went as planned,” I said, “and I left your key under the welcome mat.”

“And I’m assuming you got the money?”

“I did.”

“Good. Then there’s nothing else to say. When I hang up, I’m ditching this phone. Thanks for your assistance, and have a good life.”

The line went dead, so I pocketed the phone. I’d have to get rid of it later. For now, all I could do was rest my head in my hands and weep. Killing Lauren was like killing my wife all over again, yet I still managed to do it.

As much as I hated my wife for what she did to me, I never stopped loving her. It’s one of the reasons I kept the necklace. It was also a reminder of what I’d done and what I continued to do. It’s just the man I had become.

---

Bio: Kevin’s work has appeared in a variety of anthologies, magazines, and e-zines, and he enjoys writing in multiple genres. You can learn more about Kevin by visiting his website HERE

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