Page 68 of Nothing Ever Happens Here

Herb raises his eyebrows. “I guess we’re all outlaws now.”

“Yeah. But he made us this way,” Shelby says, and we’re all quiet for a long while, staring at the crackling fire, collectively terrified and exhausted. And together, about to kill a man.

32

FLORENCE

We watch from a distance the next morning, me and Herb, as the police enter Evan’s house, and after about thirty minutes inside, we watch them exit, giving Evan a handshake and back pat. They all laugh together about something, and then the police leave and Evan goes back inside.

Herb and I brought sandwiches for our stakeout. We told the gang he was doing a kindness, taking me antiquing today to cheer me up after all I went through in the hospital, and that ensured nobody else would ask to come. They only know I fell and broke my wrist. The rest of it we keep close to our vest, so now here we are with a thermos of coffee and some cheese sandwiches, hoping Evan leaves the house today. We’ll try as many days as it takes because as long as our eyes are on him, he can’t be up to no good.

Late last night, I found a couple of small oleander plants around the rec room and in a resident’s room who is no longer with us.Everyone gives them to us as a little joke for our namesake so there were plenty to choose from—plants that wouldn’t be missed because I don’t want noticeable cuts to the one in Evan’s house…if he even kept it. Not that it’s something Riley would catch if his life depended on it, but one can’t be too careful. The plants I found were abandoned and some of the leaves had dried right up, so I was able to grind the leaves into a powder using a coffee grinder under the sink in the rec room, but of course I washed that and then threw it in the dumpster because, again, one can’t be too careful. Now the ground leaves are in a Tupperware container in the center console of the van that I handle with rubber gloves. It all feels very wrong, but we’ve set the plan into motion. No turning back now.

A couple of hours go by, and we’re not feeling very hopeful. Maybe he is keeping off the radar for a while. Herb changes the station on the radio and tries to find some music to pass the time, but neither one of us is listening. He stares out the side window and I close my eyes and mentally rehearse my plans A through C, considering every scenario. Then I feel Herb take my hand and hold it.

“You sure about this?” he asks, still looking out the window and not at me. I squeeze his hand back.

“You’re a good friend,” I say in response. And then we see movement. Evan’s garage opens and his car backs out. He pulls onto the street, and then he’s gone. We give it a few minutes, afraid he forgot something and will come back or just making sure he didn’t see us and could creep back around, but after ten more minutes, we decide the coast is clear.

The weather has calmed this morning and the fresh snow is light and glistens in the sunshine. Sun we haven’t seen in weeks, and it feels so happy and so incongruous with what we’re doing. We park in the cluster of trees to the side of the house. A path has been shoveled in the front and a makeshift path has been cleared on the side of the house that leads from the kitchen door to the detached garage.We walk hastily toward the side door which doesn’t lock and let ourselves in. I pause inside the doorway and I shudder being back in this house. Herb places his hand on my back.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Let’s hurry.”

The plan is to find his scotch bottle while Herb looks for his laptop. Herb was much closer to Evan and tells me he’s a scotch guy, and I do find three different bottles on the countertop next to a rusted-out toaster oven. I carry them to the kitchen table. The sun streams in through the window above the sink, and I sit down and carefully get to work, pouring more than is necessary into the bottles. You don’t want to take a shot like this and miss, even though it takes very little to be fatal. The more that’s ingested, the faster the whole ugly process will be over.

Herb comes out with Evan’s laptop after a few minutes. He found it twisted in the blankets on his bed, so I instruct him to open a document and write.

I tell him what to say, revealing the details he disclosed to me but that the police wouldn’t even hear. I make sure that the money trail and secret bank account are mentioned, and even though I don’t have numbers or names, with Evan gone they will finally investigate what they would never touch with him alive and a good ole boy like them—one of their own.

All of the “zero evidence” to justify harassing this man, as the police said, and hidden records will be blown wide open. I do hesitate a few times though—wondering if I can really do this. Is this who I am? But I know that I am doing the world a kindness. I know this will save more lives than not and I rest on that, keeping my trembling hands steady as I twist the tops back onto the scotch bottles and we finish up writing the final apology note to the world from Evan Carmichael.

The laptop needs to go back in the bed where we found it so it doesn’t raise suspicion when Evan comes in, if he might even notice such a thing.And we need to get back into the van before we overstay our welcome and Evan returns.

We sit in the van another hour and a half before we see first the garage door open and then Evan’s car coming around the corner and pulling into it. The garage closes, and I look at Herb.

“I’ll wait for the phone and then I’ll be listening,” I say and he understands. Taking a deep breath, he calls me and I answer. Then he slips his phone in his pocket with our call still connected so I can hear everything going on in the house. He picks up the bag he brought and exits the van. I see him pause, but then he walks up to Evan’s front door. I can’t see him once he turns the corner of the house, but I can hear everything.

“Herb?” Evan’s voice says, surprised.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a few days. I tried calling so I thought I would stop by becauseFinal Fantasy 7came out this week. I borrowed my grandson’s copy,” he says, keeping his voice light and friendly, and I hear him rustling around to pull the game out.

“Oh, no shit. Wow.”

“So I brought it over, thought you might want to play. I mean, no worries if you’re busy, I can head to the VFW for a beer if you have plans,” he says.Way to play it cool, Herb.

“Oh, uh. I guess I thought—isn’t Florence injured? I thought I…I thought you’d be…” I can hear it in Evan’s voice. He’s confused, of course, as to why Herb is so clueless, even though Herb is often clueless, and I mean that in a loving way. He must be sure I told everyone I was held by a serial killer—who wouldn’t?—so he needs to know Herb hasn’t heard yet, and maybe he even thinks he already won since the cops left with a handshake. And maybe he thinks I won’t tell anyone, because some victims start to shrink with every new person who doesn’t believe them.

Nevertheless, Evan is going to get a show from Herb.

“I got a call she was still in the hospital—that she broke a wrist.She’ll be okay, don’t worry about her. I’ll stop by to see her with some tacos later,” Herb says.

“Oh. Glad she’s recovering. She didn’t say what happened?”

“Uh. No,” Herb says. “But I haven’t talked to her directly.”

Evan seems to perk up at this. “Okay, well, come on in. I have a little time,” he says.

Yes. We’re in.

---