Page 74 of Dear Debbie

I suck in a breath.

I thought that Debbie might have come here to ask Ken to give me my job back. And I thought there was a chance that when he refused, she got angry and did something terrible. But now that I’m thinking more clearly, I realize that given the guy was shot in his bedroom, it seems unlikely that Debbie was having a conversation with him that went awry. If Debbie is responsible for this, her motivations were very different from what I originally thought.

Shit.

I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to check my garage.

60

DEBBIE

I speed down I-95 south in the direction of home, a pop station blasting on the radio. I spent more time than I anticipated at the fraternity house, but I have completed my task, and now I’m ready for the next step in my healing.

I have to teach someone a lesson he will never forget.

I turned my phone off when I got close to the frat house because I didn’t want there to be any chance someone could prove I was there at the time of the fire. When I turned it back on after leaving, there were dozens of phone and text messages from Cooper. He’s frantic to reach me. The last one was in all caps.

DEBBIE PLEASE CALL ME!!! I’M SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING!!!!!

Hmm, a little late for that, isn’t it? But fine. He’s so, so sorry. I’ll deal with him soon enough.

A few minutes after I get on the highway, my dash screen announces a call coming in from Harley. It’s sort of a coincidence, because I had been planning to call her myself, so this saves me the trouble.

“Hi, Harley,” I say.

“Debbie!” She’s likely at home, based on the lack of noise in the background. “I know it’s kind of last minute, but do you have any interest in coming over for dinner tonight?”

I smile. Cooper and the kids can call out for pizza tonight. “That sounds great. Are you cooking?”

“Absolutely! Any allergies?”

I laugh. “No, I’ll eat anything you make.”

“Great! Can you be here by six?”

With the amount of traffic on the road, that sounds about right. It’s going to be a slow drive back to the South Shore. “Sure.”

“Wonderful! I can’t wait!”

I’ll just bet.

That girl has some nerve. She really thinks that I don’t have any idea what she’s doing. When I first met her, I thought she was “cool,” and I was stupidly excited to make a new friend. I thought maybe after all these years, I found somebody I could confide in.

How could I have been so wrong?

Harley isn’t my friend. She is a terrible person.

I glance at the glove compartment of the car, which contains the gun I’ve been carrying around for the last couple of days since I took it from its hiding place. Whenever I touch it, I put on a pair of leather gloves, careful to keep my fingerprints from rubbing off on it and careful to preserve the prints that are already on it.

Tonight will be the last time I use the gun. The next time someone picks it up, it will be evidence.

61

COOPER

I need to get out of Ken’s house as quickly as I can.

He’s got a fence encircling his property, so hopefully the neighbors did not see me. It’s about five o’clock, close to dinnertime, and people probably aren’t paying much attention to this house anyway. They’re focused on getting home to their own families.