Murder Deja Vu

dropped his arm to his side, the gun slack in his hand. Sweat trickled into his eye, and he swatted it away.
    Reece thought of going for him, but the large desk remained a barrier between them.
    Carl recovered, brought the gun up again. “But it wasn’t only once. I couldn’t get enough of her. She flaunted herself, teasing, doing sexual things I’d never even dreamed of. It wasn’t love. Karen turned into an obsession, a drug I couldn’t get enough of. I wanted her every waking minute. I couldn’t think of anything else. It was like a bad noir movie.”
    Reece had banished Karen from his mind all these years, but Carl brought her back in full color. He remembered the sex. Good sex, but not love sex. Not an obsession either. He cared about her, though he wouldn’t have married her because things were missing in the relationship, even before he knew about the others. Carl’s words filtered through the pictures in his mind.
    “She said she wanted to marry me—that you meant nothing to her. Steve and Jordan were looking for volunteers to help with a vaccination clinic that Friday. I didn’t have classes and said I’d help. On the way, they mentioned how Karen had slept with half the guys I knew and that someone should tell you. I sat in the back seat, my stomach doing flips while I listened. I went crazy. I figured Karen would tell you eventually, or when I told her what I knew, she’d tell Marcy. Then Marcy would dump me; you’d hate me. Our business plans would be over, and I’d lose both of you. I wanted to tell you. I did. But I was ashamed.”
    The air in the room thickened. Reece couldn’t get enough into his lungs. “And for that you killed her?”
    Carl looked away. He sniffed, tears filled his eyes. “I snapped. I couldn’t think straight.”
    “Jesus,” Reece raked his fingers through his hair. Ignoring the gun raised in his direction, he willed himself calm. He needed to get the rest of Carl’s confession on the recorder. “How did you drug us? You did drug us, right?”
    Carl nodded. “At the clinic, I saw a vial of Ketamine in the cabinet. I remembered Jordan and Steve talking about the anesthetic and its effects on humans. The idea popped into my head, and I couldn’t get it out. She couldn’t make a fool of me if she were dead, and you and Marcy would never know. The cabinet wasn’t locked, so when I had the opportunity, I took it. I doubted I’d go through with it, but the next night at the bar when you overheard Steve say something about Karen to Jordan, the shit hit the fan. Then Karen begged you to go back to our apartment to talk about your relationship. She looked at me with a taunting smile. I knew she planned to tell you.” Carl bit his bottom lip. “I didn’t have a choice.”
    Reece couldn’t believe the conversation. It took all his strength to keep the anger inside him from boiling over.
    Carl was lost in his story. “At the apartment, I slipped some of the drug into your drink and Karen’s. I put a little in Marcy’s too, enough so she’d get tired and want to go to sleep. When we all left you and Karen to talk , I took Marcy back to her apartment and put her to bed. I told her it was an hour later because I knew I’d need to account for that time. Then I went back to our place. You were both unconscious.”
    Reece felt something ugly rise in his throat. Carl had methodically planned Karen’s murder down to the alibi. “And you cold-bloodedly cut off her head. What could have possessed you?”
    Carl leaned across the desk, his eyes wide, crazed, his hand still gripping the gun. “That’s the perfect word. Possessed . I didn’t think about you or what I was doing. I picked her up and laid her on the bed, then I dragged you over. She looked so peaceful. I tried to wake her. I wanted her to know how I felt before I killed her. I wanted her to beg for her life. But she wouldn’t wake up. I took the big knife from the kitchen to stab her. Then something happened. I lost it and hacked across her throat. Blood spurted everywhere, all over you.”
    Reece saw the vivid picture. Felt the pounding inside his skull. Blood everywhere. Sticky on his hands. Clotted on his cheek. The smell of death. Clothes stained red. And now Carl’s voice making it real all over again. He stepped out of the scene. Breathed deeply.
    “I showered and dressed in similar clothes so no one would notice, wiped down the apartment, and threw the bloody clothes down the incinerator