Frank was still at the craps table when his iPhone rang.
His daughter Ashley was on the line. Her voice sounded strange.
“Dad,” she said. “Mom’s been shot.”
Just like that. Matter-of-factly.
As if she’d been reporting the weather.
“What? Ashley, what are you talking about?”
Suzanne looked up at Frank, startled. He shushed her. On the phone, he heard Ashley’s voice crack.
“Daddy, they shot her in the head!”
“Oh God,” Frank said.
After all this time, Billie Earl Johnson had finally come through.
“Ashley, what are you saying? Where’s Mommy now?”
“The police called my cell phone. I don’t know why they didn’t call you. But, Daddy, they shot her in the head!”
“What’s her condition?”
Frank felt stupid saying the words: What’s her condition? It’s shot in the head. As they said in those lawyer shows Nancy would stay up late to watch: “Asked and answered.” So Frank was surprised, even shocked, to hear what Ashley had to say next: “She’s alive, Dad. The police say that she was conscious and on her feet when the ambulance arrived.”
All of a sudden, Frank felt his world shift on its axis.
Alive!
Frank didn’t know what to make of it. Billie Earl had told him that this plan was foolproof. But what were the odds that a woman who had been shot in the head would survive? It was something no one could have predicted.
There was a chance that Nancy would die in the night, before he could even get back to Texas. But Frank had to brace himself for worse scenarios.
If Nancy died, there’d be nothing to tie him to the shooting. That had been the whole point of hiring Billie Earl Johnson. But if Nancy lived, and identified the shooter, there was no telling where the police investigation might lead.
And even if that investigation went nowhere, Nancy would still be there. One shooting could have been considered a one-off. A case of mistaken identity. Or a burglary gone wrong. But there was no way that Billie Earl, or anyone else, would ever get away with another attempt on Nancy’s life.
Poison would have been the way to go. A car accident. A trip and a fall, maybe off the side of a mountain while hiking on some remote and romantic getaway.
Frank didn’t know if he could have gone through with something like that. He didn’t think he’d have been capable of hurting Nancy with his own hands. But anything—anything—would have been better than this.
Now he would still have to deal with Suzanne in California. With her tears, and the fact that whatever happened, it looked like he couldn’t be with her full-time for a while now.
And back home, he’d have to deal with Nancy. He’d have to look her in the eyes and lie, once again, about how much he loved her. About how sorry he was. But all he was really sorry about, at the moment, was that Billie Earl had screwed up so royally.
Frank had never been as sorry about anything in his whole life.