The Imperfections

“I guess not,” he allows. Looking down, he kicks Theo’s errant leg back on the tarp, then holds out a hand. “Give me a bag.”

Flashing him a smile, I hold out the first bag of baking soda. “See? And you said I couldn’t help.”

“This is not the sort of quality time I thought we would be spending together while we await the birth of our child,” Brant states, shaking his head.

“Maybe not, but, I mean… it’s definitely going to bond us. How many couples who have committed murders together do you know that didn’t make it?”

“Well, I don’t know any couples who have committed murders together,” he tells me as he starts to sprinkle baking soda over Theo’s face.

“I don’t either, but I bet the number of divorces among couples who have would be super low.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, humoring me.

I wait while he finishes emptying the first bag, then I take his empty and give him the full one. “We should watch Bonny and Clyde.”

“We could do that. I’ve got enough cleanup from tonight to keep me busy for at least a week, but I suppose I’ll have to take a break sometime.”

“I really wish I could do more to help. It’s terrible that you have to do all this yourself. Scout loves to dig—do you think he’d do it on demand? I know he couldn’t once it started to get too deep, but maybe he could help you start the grave.”

“I don’t think it’d be wise to show Scout to dig in the spot where I’m going to bury a body,” Brant points out.

“Oh. That’s probably true. I guess you’re better at this than I am.”

“More experienced,” he says dryly.

“Not at hiding bodies,” I say, leaning my elbows on the table and watching the way his muscles flex as he works. “What if we just took him to the lake and tossed him in the water? We could tie cinderblocks around his ankles or something to weigh him down.”

Brant shakes his head. “Too risky. He’d wash up. I’m gonna make it look like he ran off on Bri, so if I go to all that trouble and then the asshole washes up on a shore somewhere, that’s gonna look a little weird.”

“It’s not that far off,” I tell him. “The asshole was planning to leave her.”

Brant stops shaking baking soda and looks back at me. “He say that?”

I straighten and nod my head. “He told me they got in a big fight and he stormed out, told her he was leaving. He said she probably didn’t believe him because he’s said it all before, but this time he meant it and he really was going to leave her.”

Rocking his head in consideration, Brant says, “That helps.”

I nod my agreement, but I’m still brainstorming better ideas to get rid of Theo’s body that don’t involve Brant having to dig his grave all alone. “Oh! What if we took a road trip down to the Florida Everglades and strapped hams to his body and threw him in a swamp? I saw that in a show or a movie once, I think. The gators ate him right up.”

Brant slides me that You’re crazy look again. “We’re not taking Theo’s corpse on a road trip. What if we get pulled over and someone notices the smell?”

I wrinkle up my nose. “Yeah, I guess that won’t work, either. Why don’t you have any friends who work at the local morgue or something? We could just incinerate him.”

“Again, I am not a serial killer,” Brant tells me as he hands me the now-empty baking soda bag. “If I were, that might be a valuable contact to have, but this is the first body I’ve had to dispose of. We’re going the traditional route—I’m burying the asshole somewhere in my woods, and that’s that.”

After a long, hot bath and a calming mug of tea, I settle in on the couch and try to relax a little bit. There’s been an awful lot of stress and upset tonight, and I know that’s not good for the baby.

I feel so bad that I’m so unable to help Brant, but I know he’s right. It’s not worth exposing Mackenzie to harm just to start mopping up some of this mess, though I’m sorely tempted to do so.

While I’m thinking about all that needs to be done, my eyes start to droop and the tired begins to sweep over me. I try to fight it, wishing I could at least stay awake out of solidarity, but before long, I lose the battle.

I’m jostled awake when the room is a little bit brighter, but the sun’s not quite up yet. I open my eyes to see Brant standing over me, and peace swallows me up like a big, comfy blanket.