The passing of time wasn’t improving his opinion of the idiot or tamping down how irritating he found Roy’s sad-sack face. John tried not to think about it. Thoughts became things and he didn’t know how to end anyone’s life outside of a daydream. But as the months turned to years, he found that he wasn’t any less inclined to kill Roy.

If John found a coin, he was supposed to meet Roy at 6:00 p.m. or 8:00 a.m.—whichever he could manage within the next day—in the back parking lot of the closest McDonald’s.

With Roy’s latest signal weighing like a lead sinker at the bottom of John’s otherwise empty pocket, he wandered around the housewares section of Target. Necessity would get him over the hurdle of his lack of imagination. With exactly one exception, he didn’t give a shit about what hung on the wall.

Once home, he put the painting in the back of the guest-room closet and nailed up a three-panel metal scrollwork in its place.

“Wow.” Donna waved her hands at the frenzied wreckage of cardboard boxes burst at the staples. “What are you doing? What’s all this?”

John startled and nearly swallowed the last nail he’d stashed between his lips while he worked.

“I thought a change would be good. I got a different mirror, too, see? After I get this up, I’m going to put that new bench together.” He pointed to the long box leaning against the wall. “Goodwill is scheduled to swing by tomorrow to pick up all the old stuff. This place feels all bad mojo now. Thought I’d try to make it feel new. None of us needs to be reminded what happened every time we walk through the door.”

Donna came to stand beside him. “It’s really nice. I like it. I’ve always said you have good taste.”

John dipped his head, surprised that the satiny stroke of the small compliment even registered in the moment.

Donna tapped her lip, thinking and turning a circle in the foyer. “But maybe the other picture would look really good over the fireplace. What do you think?”

John’s heart kicked his sternum. “I’m just going to get rid of all of it. The whole point is that Carly has to live here after all of this. I don’t want her to see the same things she saw when . . . I want to do this for her, okay? We can paint in here, too, if you want.”

Donna touched him for the first time in more than a day and a half. “Okay. That’s very sweet.”

CHAPTER SEVEN