Page 26 of Caution Tape

I might spiral into a cackling murder spree, be dragged off and thrown into a state dungeon for crimes too heinous to mention, but at the end of the day, I don’t think I’m any more of a sociopath than my parents.

I find myself standing in a long checkout line, holding a random assortment of objects I grabbed as I wandered the aisles. Ahead of me, I can see Cora bitterly scanning items. She hasn’t seen me yet.

I’m holding a pair of socks, two candle lighters, and a can of tomato soup.

The line inches forward and she glances up and sees me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she offers no other reaction.

I watch her fake smile at the other customers, enjoying the very act of looking at her. There is a sharp angularity to her features that attract me to her, with her almost gray eyes made darker by the black mascara. Her hair is in a ponytail today and I notice small, silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears.

I wonder how they would taste; the metal mixed with the softness of her earlobes, taking them gently in my mouth.

My phone vibrates and I’m brutally reminded of Natalie, who messages and asks if we can talk later.

I sigh.

I’m next in line, just behind a middle-aged man buying an armload of paper towels, paper plates, and paper cups. I catch her shooting furious glances at me as she haphazardly scans the items and throws them into bags. She glares at me while the man fumbles with his debit card and pays for his stuff, and then I slide up, placing my items on the belt.

“Hi,” I say.

“Why are you here?” she asks blankly, scanning the lighter.

I pause with a frown, then opt to tell the truth. “I wanted to see you.”

The words hit her, and she looks down for a moment as if baffled. “What, you want to talk? Is that it?”

“I guess.”

She scowls. “Why?”

I lean in, staring her straight in the eyes. “We share a secret, and this is much more interesting than anything else I have going on.”

She scans the rest of my items, a carefully passive look on her face. Finally, as she’s handing me the receipt, she says, “I get off in ten minutes.”

The sun is sinking rapidly in the sky, a hazy orange orb that seems desperate to leave the horizon. I’m leaning against my car as Cora comes out, her body language defensive. And I notice that she’s clutching her keys in her fist looking ready to fight.

“I’m not going to murder you,” I say.

“Sure. No one haseversaid that and then stabbed someone.“ She stops in front of me, standing only mere inches away. “So, what is this?” Her hands motion between our chests. “What’s the point of this? You gonna kill me next?”

I lean easily back on my car. “I can’t kill you even if I wanted to. Two people from the same party go missing? Every part-time detective, true crime podcast and Facebook group will be looking for a suspect. Plus, a pretty girl goes missing, well, people notice.”

Her arms cross and she flips her hair off her shoulder.

“You want to get to the fucking point?” she spits.

I hesitate. I didn’t think this through. I don’t have much of a plan more of a simple, direct…feeling. I’m not sure how to handle it. I just want to see her. My brain offers a variety of ways to try and manipulate her, lure her into traps, but I reject them all. I don’t know what I want. I just revisit the way she looked at the knives that night.

So, I choose truth.

Standing in the pockmarked, potholed parking lot of a Target with the only person who knows I’m a murderer, I choose truth.

“I think you’re just like me,” I say to her, carefully watching how she reacts.

“Oh, yeah?” It’s a challenge. She hasn’t run off. She isn’t fumbling for her phone to call the police. She is meeting my eyes and daring me to keep talking.

“Yes. I think there’s something a little off about you. You hide it well—“ I circle behind her, my chest brushing against her shoulder, “and you drift through life, but nothing feels real. Like it has any stakes.”

I brush a loose strand of hair off her arm, still circling until I’m in front of her, face to face.

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