Crime Writers A Decade of Crime by Various Authors

Author:Various Authors [Authors, Various]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It took me half an hour to find the alley - mostly because I had to make sure I wasn’t being followed. When I got there, everything was exactly as I had seen it in the dream - the darkness, the bare light bulb at the end of the alley, the awful stench.

Holding my breath, I hurried toward the Dumpster. It would have been quite a spectacle to those who know me to see Jennifer Kimball down on all fours in a filthy alley reaching through the buzzing flies for something under a Dumpster. But those people did not know what Jennifer Kimball had gone through in the past. Not anymore, however. Not ever again.

I felt around until my hand hit metal and pulled it into view. A gun - a .38, actually, Smith & Wesson. I checked the chamber. I was sure there were going to be blanks. It was the only explanation for everything that was going on. I emptied the five chambers that were left intact. The bullets were real. No blanks.

I dropped the gun as though it were on fire. Yet again, nothing made sense, absolutely nothing. It was as though I had woken up one morning and all the laws of nature had been changed. E did not equal mc squared. The Atlantic Ocean was a landmass. The earth was flat. And the clear line between life and death was suddenly very blurry.

I turned the corner and was greeted with yet another surprise that tore at my sanity: a 1997 blue Mercedes 500, brand-new, New Jersey plates AYB 783. Just where it had been in the dream.

I moved closer to the car and peered through the back window. There was a body slumped across the front seat, the head resting on the steering wheel.

With something beyond horror, I realized that my hand was grasping the handle. The car door swung open slowly. I swallowed and reached in to pull the head back. At the last moment, as I stared at the dried blood on the burgundy interior, I had a second to wonder why, if Edward was behind all this, he had not let the impostor use his own car. And in the split second, the answer came to me: Edward’s Mercedes was state’s evidence and would be needed in another scheme.

The head on the steering wheel shot upright and smiled at me. ‘Hello, Mrs Kimball.’

I jumped back, tripping over a can and falling to the ground. I clambered back up as he got out of the car and faced me. Suddenly, everything made sense. All the pieces were coming together. And it wasn’t a pretty picture.

‘It can’t be!’ I shouted, though in truth I knew it had to be. It was the only thing that fit. You see, Edward was not behind all this. Edward was indeed dead.

‘It’s over, Mrs Kimball.’

Sgt. Harding stepped out of the Mercedes as a police car pulled in behind us. Two men got out and pointed guns at me. One was Edward the impostor:

I turned back toward Harding.

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