Page 67 of Nothing Ever Happens Here

“Jeez, Florence,” he interrupts her to emote how offended he is, but she waves her hand at him.

“Take a pill. She was kidding. Anyway, I said to her, ‘Don’t worry, Millie will talk him to death and Mort will bore him to death without my interference.’”

“Good one,” Herb interjects with a shrug.

“And then I added… ‘Plus, I am not going to prison for killing Herb. That wouldn’t be worth it, now would it?’”

“I’m right here, ya know,” he says.

“Andshesaid they would never know. The tox reports cover all the common toxins, but in a million years they would never test for oleander unless they knew that’s what it was—like the person said they ate a weird flower. Even then, the money and resources to do that kind of testing? Never. So she said, if you ever decide to kill Herb, that’s the way, and we laughed and drank mint juleps and played gin rummy, and she was only kidding, Herb. She likes you.”

We’re all quiet for a few minutes, but Shelby has finally lifted her head and seems to be entertaining this.

“I mean, do I need to say out loud how crazy this is?” I finally say.

Shelby sits up suddenly. “‘When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw,’” she says and Herb stops midsip of his drink to give her a confused look. “That’s what Bernie said before he died,” she says. “He was telling me to defend myself, in his own Bernie way.”

“Well,” Florence says. “Even if the manner of death isn’t caught, me and Shelby would still be suspects, probably be the only and total pariahs in this town—more than we already are, I mean, as if that were even possible.

“That’s why you use us. We’re invisible. That happens to a person after a certain age. You’ll have alibis. Shelby is going to her mother’s. She’ll get receipts, make sure to appear in front of a security camera or two—take the girls to Dave & Buster’s or whatever and be seen by a bunch of people all day thirty miles north of town.You can do that, can’t you?” Florence says, and Shelby nods.

I start thinking about this as a real possibility for a moment and I feel like I’m in a nightmare. But I feel like there is no other way out of it either.

“And I can fly out to see my daughter,” I say quickly, before I lose my nerve.

“Good. Airtight,” Florence says.

“And Evan might write a final note expressing his guilt for what he’s done. A suicide note, maybe,” Herb says, apparently to Florence’s utter surprise, because she almost spits her drink out but then collects herself and shoots down the idea.

“We can’t have handwriting involved, they can figure that out,” Florence says, shaking her head.

“I know the password to his laptop. It’s Porkchops…named after a dog he used to have. He let me use it once to playMinecraft,” Herb says. Florence pats Herb’s leg and gives him an impressed look.

“And Herb will drive me. I know my way around the man’s kitchen now. It’s the only way,” she says.

“Oh God.” Shelby holds her head in her hands again. “She’s right.”

“It’s a terrible thing, I know, darling,” Florence says.

“Lesser of two evils, though,” I say, coming around to the idea that she’s right.

“He’ll kill my girls. He promised they’re next. He won’t stop until he’s caught, and when will that be? I mean, eventually there will be evidence. Eventually he won’t be able to keep getting away with so goddamn many things, you would think—but when? Who else will have to die first? Not my kids. If he’s dead, they’ll dig into his records, right? All the psychiatric stuff proving he’s psychotic, and that will really seal the deal. Right now all that stuff is sealed—needs a warrant there is no reason for them to order.But this way…along with the note we’ll write for him, confessing to everything…it will show we’ve been right all along. It’s the only way. She’s right. Florence is right.” Shelby sounds almost hysterical, but she has more to lose than the rest of us. We all sit with this for a minute. I take a sip of red wine and stroke the top of Nugget’s head and wonder if we could really pull this off. It’s so unimaginable, but it’s really Shelby’s life at stake.

“Nobody outside of the four of us can ever know. Four people keeping a secret is already statistically fucked,” I say. Everyone nods in agreement. I start searching on my phone to see ticket availability to Boston for early tomorrow.

“I can fly out before 9:00 a.m.,” I say. “And Clay thinks you’re at your mother’s—that she picked you up. That’s what I thought when I called him.”

“That’s the last thing I told him. That’s good. He assumes she picked me up, so he’s not worried. He goes to work in the morning and one of you can drop me off and I’ll take the car up—just call and say Mom picked me up yesterday because she was in the area shopping and it was easier, but now I am staying longer than planned so I need the car after all. He won’t ask questions and I’ll make sure to stop for gas, at a restaurant, keep receipts. Just in case. And I’ll take the pups while you’re gone,” she says to me.

“It sounds like we’re all really doing this,” I say, starting to feel hot and a little shaky.

“And no phone calls between the four of us. No texts. No speaking about this ever again. If this goes right, just keep an eye on the news. If it goes wrong, that’s the only time I’d call, but only to make plans for coffee. To meet and only ever discuss in person no matter what happens. We never say anything about this over the phone,” Florence says, and we all nod.

“Yes,” I agree.

“How the hell will you be able to do it? How will you even get in?” Shelby asks, and Florence turns to Herb, and then we all turn to Herb.

“We have a way,” Florence says.

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