Page 100 of Marked

“Harley!” She sits back on the couch, flittering her eyes to me. “What are you doing? Please. You need help. You’ve got this all twisted.”

“She’s helping herself,” I tell her. “You’re a dirty cop who helps monsters steal little girls and women. You help them get away with the worst things imaginable.”

“Look. It’s not my fault. I had to. You don’t understand.”

“I do understand.” Harley pulls back the slide. “You probably had a good reason at the beginning. Maybe they were blackmailing you, or you needed money, or whatever. I don’t care.

My sister and I were beaten, raped repeatedly, and then my sister was killed. That’s what I know. That’s what I care about.”

She aims.

“Harley, please. I can help you.” The begging begins. “I’ll open a real investigation. We’ll get them all.” Special Agent Laurens offers what she cannot give.

“There’s no need for that,” I say. “We’ve already taken care of them.”

Laurens’ eyes widen. Fear rolls off of her.

“Please, I’m sorry. So, so–”

The bullet strikes Special Agent Laurens in the forehead. Her lifeless body slumps back, the back of her head splattered against the wall.

“I couldn’t listen to her anymore.” Harley drops her hand to her side with a frown. “All the lying and the begging. It’s just annoying.”

“True.” Bringing my bag to the coffee table, I pull out a pair of latex gloves. “Let me have it.” I wiggle my fingers at the gun in Harley’s hands.

“What are you going to do?” She peeks into the bag as I pull out a rag to wipe off all of her prints. “What’s that?” She points at an insulated lunch box that’s inside the duffel bag.

“We need to replace your prints.” I open the lid of the box and pull out Jimmy Blackwood’s hand.

“Oh. Ew.” Harley takes a step back. “It stinks.” She covers her nose.

“Of course it does.” I laugh. I’ve preserved it as best I can with ice packs, but decomposition is going to smell.

Carefully, I wrap his hand around the gun. Pressing his fingers in all the right spots. Once I’m satisfied with my work with the weapon, I go to work placing fingerprints on the coffee table and on the glass of water sitting beside the flower arrangement.

“Won’t it look sloppy, leaving the gun behind?” Harley asks when I drop it in on the couch beside her.

“Maybe, but she’s a dirty cop and he’s in the Mafia. What better way to close this case fast than to pin it on a mobster?” I close the box, zip up the bag and gesture toward the front door. “Are you ready?”

She chews on her lips.

The next stop is the worst stop.

But this has to draw to a close.

She takes in a deep breath, rolls her shoulders back, and gives a firm nod like she’s made her decision.

“As ready as I’m going to be.” She heads to the door. “Let’s get it over with.”

Fading evening sun rays beat down on us as we stand at edge of Mom’s lawn. Zack’s strong hand holds mine as a tremor runs through my body.

“We don’t have to do this,” he reminds me.

“It’s all right.” I take in a breath. “This has to be finished.” I squeeze his hand. “So our future can begin.”

The front door swings open and Mom hurries onto the porch.

“Harley! Honey!” She smiles wide, her arms spread out in welcome. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

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