Killer by Dave Zeltserman

“I’m breathless right now,” she said, and she sounded it.
    She had me sit back down, and brought me over a piece of cherry pie and a fresh coffee. I sat for a while eating while she kept me company. When I told her I better get going, she looked worried.
    “He might be out there looking for you,” she said.
    “Nah, he’s a coward.” I hesitated, then asked, “Whatever possessed you to let someone like that buy you drinks?”
    She smiled at that. “I ended up ditching him, didn’t I?”
    I couldn’t help smiling back at her. I nodded to her as I left the diner. I looked around to see if he was out there waiting for me, but I guess he had better sense than to be waiting for a lunatic.

    Later that morning I went back to the store that sold me my cell phone, but the salesman I had dealt with still wasn’t there. The only person working in the store was the same salesgirl I had tried talking to earlier, and she looked horrified when she saw me walk back into the place. I didn’t bother talking to her, and instead just turned around and left.
    It was a warmish October day and the sun felt good on my face. With nothing else to do, I took a walk down some side streets and ended up stumbling upon the Charles River. I walked along it until I found a grassy spot where I could sit and watch the water. My pop used to tell me how he swam in the Charles River when he was growing up, but by the time I was a kid the river had gotten too polluted for anything like that. Not only was it a yellowish brown color but you could smell the chemicals and sewage that came off of it. Now as I sat there the water looked clean. I wondered briefly whether it actually was or if it was an illusion with the muck and filth still there but better hidden beneath the surface.
    Looking out over the water, my thoughts slowly drifted to Jenny. She had to know early on that I was involved in some sort of shady business. We had too nice a home and too many other nice possessions for me to have just been working at a liquor store, and she was too smart not to know I couldn’t’ve made all that extra money betting on the horses like I used to tell her I did. I’m sure she never suspected me of being a hit man, but she knew something was up. There were those times I’d catch her giving me an odd look before she’d realize it and correct it. And then there were those times when I would need to leave town for days or longer, and those questions she’d swallow back when I would return home. It must’ve crushed her when she found out the truth, but even then she tried to hide it from me and put a brave face on. She never abandoned me, and right up until the end before cancer got her, I knew she would’ve been waiting for me if she could’ve.
    It was hard thinking of her dying the way she did. I knew it had been a long, painful death for her. My mom had written me several letters letting me know what Jenny went through. Even through all of that, Jenny acted cheerfully the few times I was able to reach her by phone, trying to pretend there was nothing wrong with her.
    When she finally succumbed I didn’t know about it until months afterwards. By this time my mom had already been dead for six months, and I had no contact with my kids. I guess the prison officials left responsibility for informing me about my wife to my kids, or maybe things just slipped through the cracks. Even at this late date I didn’t know where Jenny was buried, but I guess it didn’t much matter. It wasn’t her there, just some bones left from her. It wouldn’t make any difference if I visited the grave or not. Nothing could change that she was gone.
    I tried hard to remember what my wife looked like, but I could only bring up a vague impression. It had been years since I’d been able to picture how Jenny looked. I had little to console myself over what happened with her other than I’d been able to tell her where my safety deposit boxes were without the federal or state