Cheryl charged toward me, but Irving blocked her with his free arm.
“Fuck you!” she shrieked. “Fuck you in hell— Don’t let him talk to me like that, baby. He can’t dis me like that—don’t fucking let him!”
Pushing against Irving’s arm. He closed his hand on her wrist. The gun arm had never wavered. If he’d blinked I hadn’t seen it. Giving him a polygraph would be academically interesting.
Cheryl said, “Give me the gun and let me do him— I can do it, you know I can. I’ll do it right now, just like I did her, come on.”
“Her,” I said. “Lauren or Michelle or Jane or Shawna?”
The last name caused Irving’s eyes to wander for the tiniest fragment of a second. Uncertainty. Lack of familiarity.
“Bitch Lauren,” said Cheryl, smugly. She spat on the pier. “Cunt Lauren. She thought she could be my friend. Thought we had raff art, that I was just like her—”
“She had a point,” I said. “You both sold sex—”
“Fuck you.”
“Quiet,” said Irving. His hand was still clamped to her wrist. Something he did made her say, “Ouch.”
Then: “Baby?”
“Hurts so good?” I said. “What a fun couple. So how’d you lure Lauren?”
“Art,” said Cheryl, making it sound like a disease. “She thought she was so cool—we made a date to meet at the art museum and then—”
A twist of Irving’s wrist shut her mouth. “Easy,” he soothed.
“He’s the boss, got you to set up Lauren, then do her,” I said. “With a woman she’d let down her guard—two girls and pretty pictures. She’d already told you her secret— Tell me, did you watch while he hog-tied her? Did you help him toss her in the trash?”
“It was great—”
Irving rotated his hand again, and she cried out.
I said, “You’re toast, Cheryl. Maybe it won’t happen tonight, but don’t make any long-term investments. Even if you weren’t stupid and unpredictable, you wouldn’t figure into his plans, because your kids are a problem. Think about that gas leak— What’s the next installment, Kent? Tossing Baxter over the cliff? Then Sage happens to toddle over to the pool? Or maybe you’ll just disappear them in the ocean.”
Irving smiled. Cheryl never saw it, but his silence made her eyes go wide and scared.
“Maybe I will let you do him,” he told her.
“Creative,” I said. “Her prints get on the gun, then a bullet finds its way into her head—murder-suicide, lovers’ quarrel out on the pier. You’re an old hand at that kind of thing—took Lauren’s gun out of her purse after Cheryl shot her and used it a week later on Jane Abbot. Setting the old man up. How’d you get Lauren alone for the kill, Cheryl?”
“Girl talk, asshole—”
“Shh,” said Irving. “No more dialogue— Yeah, I will let you do him.”
“Lots of bodies piling up,” I said. “At least it’s not one of those senseless crime sprees. You’ve got a definite goal in mind. Tony’11 be dead soon, and what he leaves behind is sure worth working for. You’re doing Ben and Anita’s dirty work, and maybe they’ll even let you stick around to enjoy the windfall. But you never know—the rich can get funny with hired help.”
Irving didn’t move.
Cheryl said, “Baby?” very softly. “You do love them, right? Bax and Sage?”
“Sure,” said Irving.
“He’s capable of love like you’re qualified to be a nuclear physicist,” I said. “He’ll love them as two cute little corpses. No way will they make it to first grade. Baby. You sure are a great mom. Baby,”
Cheryl raised clenched fists. “Shut up! Gimme it, let me do him now!”
Irving didn’t budge.
“Ke-ent!” she whined.
“Okay, c’mere,” said Irving.
He removed his hand from her wrist, and as she stepped forward lowered his arm and circled her waist. Keeping the gun trained on me. Reaching around, he squeezed her breast. Pinched her nipple.
“Umm,” she said.
He pinched her again.
“Ow, that was too hard!”
“Sorry,” said Irving. Cradling her chin, he kissed the tip of her nose. Shoved her hard.
As she staggered backward, he moved fast. Staring at me as he swung the gun around. He shot her twice in the face, stepping back to avoid the blood spray. By the time she hit the boards, the gun was back on me.