Page 24 of Dear John

“The Kamau?” I asked, continuing down the aisle.

“It means Silent Warrior,” Riley filled me in.

Fox turned to her, completely awestruck. “Yes,” he said quietly. “How did you know?”

But she didn’t answer. Pushing the cart ahead, she continued as if he hadn’t asked the question. “Let’s say this scenario is true, what would you consider a good murder?”

We continued walking down the aisle, just about to turn as Fox started his rant. “Well, a good murder is taking someone out quickly and efficiently. The more horrible the reasons for the necessary murder, the worse it gets. And that’s where coldblooded comes in.”

“But wouldn’t it be coldblooded if I slid my knife across someone’s throat? Even if it ended quickly, it’s still a vicious attack.”

“Ah, but there is where the conundrum lies,” he answered, continuing our walk. “A quick murder signifies the distaste for the act, or an uneasy feeling in doing so.”

“Or maybe you just don’t have time to draw it out,” I muttered.

He quirked a brow at me, grinning slightly. “Doth I hear my vicious little friend plotting the murder of a certain ex-husband?”

“Only if he doesn’t sign the divorce papers soon.”

“Yes, but could you actually go through with it?”

That was the question. Even Riley looked at me for answers. Could I murder Shawn? Hell, no. I wanted him dead, for sure, but in a hypothetical sort of way. Even when IKE wanted to kill him, I couldn’t allow it. I wasn’t the type of woman to thrive on bloodlust.

“No.”

Riley pursed her lips. “I could.”

We turned another corner and headed down the next aisle. We were quickly running out of grocery store to wander through. “So, what, in your opinion, is cold-blooded murder?”

“Ah, ’tis the question of the hour,” he said, clutching his hands behind his back. “I recently had an epiphany of my own. I was going through what you may call a spiritual journey. But alas, at the end of that walk through the wilderness was a bright light at the end of the tunnel, calling me home.”

I stared at him with rapt attention. “What was it?”

He looked at me, his eyes burning with intensity. “It was a man defiling a child.” I flinched back in horror. “That was where I turned from a murderer to a cold-blooded murderer who enjoyed every single second of ending that miserable excuse for a human’s life.”

Riley chortled. “I would say that’s just plain old good murder.”

When we reached the end of the aisle, I realized we had walked through the entire grocery store, yet hadn’t put a single item in my shopping cart. And the answer of whether or not murder could be classified as good versus bad still eluded me.

“So,” Fox said cheerily. “What brought about such a topic with ye fair lasses?”

I glanced at Riley, wondering if we should tell him anything. After all, he worked with Kavanaugh and would probably run and tell him the moment we opened our mouths.

“Are we talking about hypothetical situations or real-life situations,” I pondered, winking at Riley to follow my lead.

“Ooh, I do love a good hypothetical situation. It’s sort of like—hypothetically speaking, if you were in an airplane that was about to go down, would you save everyone on board or the Funyuns stash no one else knows about?”

My eyebrows shot up at this hypothetical. “Um…is that really a choice?”

He barked out a laugh, clapping me on the shoulder. “I know, right? Like, who would choose to leave the Funyuns behind?”

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to tell Fox about our situation. He seemed to have a few screws loose, and as much as I liked him, I wasn’t sure I could gauge his reaction accurately.

“It was just a word game,” Riley cut in, seemingly on the same page as me. “How best to describe a situation you may be in. That sort of thing.”

“Ah, yes. I’m fond of a word game or two myself.” He glanced into the cart, then peered at both of us questioningly. “I feel like perhaps there is more going on than meets the eye.”

“Just an uneasy feeling,” I said quickly.

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