Daisy Zhou
DAISY COULDN’T BELIEVE what she was hearing.
She could feel Paul’s apprehension, the way he reached over and gripped her hand. But she was glad they’d come here. Glad the door was ajar and they’d come in at this exact moment.
Making that bastard pay. The idea alone was exhilarating. Ever since Mei had died, Daisy had felt like she was treading water. Just struggling to stay afloat, and constantly exhausted. Sometimes she’d doze off at her desk, head jerking forward and bumping her computer monitor.
And as much as she hated to admit it, she felt herself drifting away from her husband. The death of their daughter cast their relationship in a new, unflattering light. She looked at a man like John Kennelly and saw someone who was broken, but at least trying to put the pieces back together.
Paul just sat on his chair in the den, staring off into space. Barely checking in at the Forest Avenue coffee shop they owned, never lifting a hand to help around the house. It was like he’d given up. They still had another child, and she was exhausting herself keeping the household together.
Thinking about Scott dead filled her with energy.
It was the best she had felt in months.
She imagined what it would be like. How they would do it. If she would get to contribute. Fire a bullet or plunge a knife. She was shocked at how little she cared about the consequences.
Because it would be for Mei, and that would make it worth it.
Paul sniffed, because he would never blow his nose when she asked. He didn’t like tissues. Just sucked it back up into his nose like a kid. That’s when everyone turned. Which was good, because at that point Daisy wasn’t sure how to broach the fact that they were standing there.
No one spoke. No one even moved, like it was a television show and someone had hit the Pause button. After a few moments John stood up.
“How much did you hear?” he asked.
“All of it,” Daisy said.
“Why are you here?” Hanlon asked, his face twisted in confusion.
Before Daisy could respond, Kat said, “I texted them. I told them to meet us.”
Hanlon turned to her, his mouth hanging open. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because they deserve to be a part of it,” Kat said.
Hanlon shook his head. “I should never have done this. I should have handled this myself. This is getting out of control.”
Daisy stepped forward. “Wait.”
She let go of Paul’s hand, looked back at him, and nodded. Then she turned to the rest of the group. “We want in.”
“Now hold on…” Paul said, putting his hand on Daisy’s shoulder.
“He took our daughter,” Daisy whispered. “Our little girl, Paul.”
“This isn’t the way,” Paul said, shaking his head. “This isn’t right.”
“And what is right?” asked John, his voice thick with emotion. “That he got off on a technicality? What about when the next kid dies? Will it be right then? Because I think the next kid who dies is on us. Getting caught is just going to make him more careful.”
“John’s right,” said Susan, looking down at her hands, wringing them together.
Hanlon exhaled. Daisy held her breath. The detective was weary, regretful. Worst of all, he looked to be reconsidering. But finally he shook his head.
“If we’re going to do this, we need each other’s backs,” Hanlon said. “We need to be in agreement. So if anyone is having second thoughts, please say something now.”
“I’m not so sure about this,” Paul said, raising his hand.
Daisy cringed, and pushed her body against his, trying to get him to shut up. Once upon a time, she had appreciated that he was so thoughtful. That he was a man of high moral fiber who thought things through carefully and deliberately.
This wasn’t the time for him to be such a damn bleeding heart.
There was only one heart she wanted to bleed.
Kat said, “We should tell him.”
“Tell us what?” Paul asked, hesitant.
“He didn’t just have pictures of the three of them,” said Kat. “There was a fourth picture.”
Hanlon put his hands on his hips, looked at the floor, and sighed. “We thought it might be his next victim.”
Daisy knew it was coming before Hanlon said it. The way Paul gripped her hand, squeezing it so hard it hurt, he seemed to get it, too.
“He had a picture of your son, Jian,” Hanlon said. “Mei’s twin brother.”
Daisy felt the breath leave her body. Her head spun. She turned to her husband. Paul’s mouth parted and twisted, like something terrible was about to escape. Then he clamped his lips together and nodded his head, his eyes suddenly cold.
“We’re in,” he said, before grabbing Daisy’s hand and yanking her out of the room.