Then he was fighting her and the gun was on the ground. She had only one arm to use, but her muscles were cable tight and her grip was unrelenting.

As the car neared them, Timothy grabbed Julianne’s shoulders and threw her to the road. She clawed at his face, but he pushed her back down, hard. The crack of her skull on the pavement was thick and moist and sickening.

She won’t fight so much now.

Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp.

You did it. You killed her.

“No, no, no. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t trying to.”

But you did.

“Maybe she’s not dead. Maybe she’s not.”

Make sure. Use the gun. Or the letter opener.

“No!”

Timothy patted himself down, looking for blood, for an entry wound, but found none.

That car. Hurry. You need to hide her . . .

He quickly dragged her body behind his car to get her out of sight. Part of him wanted to feel her pulse to see if she was alive; part of him didn’t want to, just in case she wasn’t.

He retrieved the gun and hurried back to the trunk to close it before the other car stopped, but he was too late.

With the headlights on and glaring in Timothy’s eyes, the driver’s face was obscured. “You okay?” the man called.

“Yeah.”

“I thought I heard a gunshot.”

Timothy might have heard that voice before, but he couldn’t be sure. Nerves. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m fine.”

Julianne moaned softly, and Timothy’s heart jackrabbited in his chest.

“You hear something?” the man said.

“Just the wind.”

A pause. “Got a flat?”

“A flat?”

“Your trunk there.”

Behind the open trunk, Timothy held the gun in his left hand, the letter opener in his right.

“All good. All fine. I’m sure.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Alright,” the man replied. “If you’re sure.”

At last, he pulled forward, and Timothy let out a deep breath and slid the gun beneath his belt.

As he watched the car drive away, he tried to read the license plate, but the numbers had been covered with duct tape, which he found both surprising and, obviously, suspicious.

Just get out of here.

He walked to Julianne’s body.

She was bleeding from her head. Fresh blood.

Her heart’s still beating. And she groaned a moment ago. She’s still alive.

“But that’s good, though, right?”

Now what are you going to do? You have to take care of this. You have to solve this, before someone else comes along.

“I could just leave her here. No one would suspect me. Why would anyone suspect me?”