Page 16 of My Girl
What if that masked man was around when my father died?
What ifheis my father’s true murderer?
I laugh. I can’t tell the police that, especially not without evidence. They would think I’m crazy.
I close my fist around my phone, then hold it to my chest like it’s a teddy bear comforting me.
I can use my footage against the murderer. Wield it as leverage. Get closer to him. Use him to find out more about my father.
The masked murderer is a man, and men are always more inclined to listen to other men, especially at a place like a police department. He can steal the evidence for me.
I can blackmail him.
“That’s crazy,” I say out loud. “I can’t blackmail a murderer.”
I cock my head to the side, letting the idea spread its fingers around my brain.
A sense of invincibility curls inside of me. That masked man could have killed me. Heshouldhave killed me.
But I’m still here.
“What are you even talking about?” I say. “It’s not like you’re too hot to kill. He was horny. You were there. Hemeantto kill you, but he got preoccupied with cleaning up dead bodies.”
The words come out, but the logic doesn’t process in my head.
If that masked man is willing to murder, then he’ll be willing to steal evidence from a government building. If anything, a criminal like him would likely enjoy the challenge. And at the very least, with this footage, I’ll have power over him. SomeoneIcan mold.
A lethargic warmth crawls over me, my body throbbing in its heat. It’s settled, then. I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to need more surveillance equipment to take with me—a camera or something to keep in my purse—because I’ll need to gather more evidence against the masked man. I’ll also need the key to the padlock on the new gate.
Most of all, I need a solid way to protect myself.
I go to a local electronics store and buy a tiny camera—the size of a grommet—that fits into my purse strap. Then when I’m back at the apartment, I dial Ned. He answers on the first ring.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says.
“Hey, I’ve got a favor to ask.” I adjust the phone. “Can you help me get a gun?”
His jaw audibly drops. “Agun?”
“Yeah, it’s just—” I pause. I don’t want him to get worried, but I alsoneeda gun if I’m going to blackmail a murderer. I could get one myself, but having Ned get one seems better. I’ll convince him to put it under his name, and he’ll be onmyside in case anything bad happens.
“I need to protect myself, you know?” I say. It’s honest enough. “And I’m not really sure what the protocol is to get one in Nevada.”
“Tell me who it is,” he growls.
Ned, the good man, is always trying to protect others. Protecting me probably means keeping me locked in his tower so that no one could get near me,andso that Ned wouldn’t have to hurt my enemies. He would never kill an ant. It’s sweet, in a vomit-inducing way.
“I live alone, you know?” I say. “I just want to protect myself. You never know what can happen.”
He sighs. “You’re right about that.”
In the corner of the kitchen, a camera records the phone call; I installed it so that I’ll always be ready to prove my innocence. In the past, a surveillance camera like that proved my guilt. One day, it may help me.
“Well,” Ned says, clearing his throat. “It’s late, but I’ve got a friend who owns a shop. I can pick you up in an hour. We’ll get you something.”
Chapter6
Crave
