Cooler Than Blood by Robert Lane

they knew she’d been with Billy Ray. Had to be my cheer T-shirt with my name on it , she thought. And I worked so hard for it. Were they watching that night? No way. Did they get there before the detectives? The one with the goofy shoulder said they never found my T-shirt. Maybe a bird took it. Who knows? She’d grown weary of thinking about it. Grown weary of thinking about anything.
    And what’s with Zach? One day on a boat, and he remembers me? I told him I had visited my aunt—and he filed that? Well, after all, I remember him. He was cute. Still is. I don’t think he’ll hurt me, but I won’t hesitate on him. She went over it all again in her head.
    He had called a few nights ago—how he had her number she didn’t know, but Cami had snuck it onto her Facebook page a couple of years ago when they’d gotten into that tiff over asking Sean McCann to the Valentine’s Day Sadie Hawkins dance. Zach had told her to come down quick to the Laundromat. “I got something for you—can’t leave. I’m at the corner, waiting for a ride.” At first she didn’t remember him, but then it kicked in. Seriously curly hair. “What are you even doing in Florida?” she had asked, but the line was dead. She darted out of the house and spotted him at the end of the street by a blue van. “Jen, over here,” he’d said. And like an idiot, she thought, I went straight to the van, thrilled to see a somewhat familiar face. Whoopee, girl, your Florida experience getting better by the minute.
    She never saw the other man approach behind her but felt a pair of hands on her back. Her face hit the gray cloth seat, and the stub of a stale French fry found her left eye. He scrambled in behind her and shut the door. He wore a green mask. He tied her hands behind her back and bound her ankles while Zach drove. She was too confused to feel fear. They questioned her about the money. “What did Billy Ray say? Where is it? We saw the car,” Zach had said. “It was busted open.” They questioned if she knew Billy Ray from back up in Ohio. “Did you run together? Plan this whole thing out?”
    “Are you nuts?” she retorted. “Zach, what are you doing?” She thought they’d let her go once they realized she didn’t know anything. After all, this was Zach, one of Orry’s buds. Right? That’s what she told herself, although she remembered asking Orry about Zach after the day on the boat. He said his other friend had invited Zach at the last moment, and Orry didn’t really know Zach.
    Then they had stopped, and the taller one with the mask said he was tired of wearing a mask and blindfolded Jenny. That’s when fear came around fast—like that sucker was just waiting to club her over the head. They talked about their portion of the money, as if it weren’t all theirs. After a while, Jenny had realized they were no longer discussing Billy Ray—as if she were Dorothy, and by melting Billy Ray, she had done them all a favor. Hello , she’d thought. I took this guy out last night, and you obviously knew him pretty well. Anyone care?
    They didn’t. But they cared—and cared deeply, Jenny realized—about the money.
    And who had beat them to it.
    She stood and walked to the refrigerator. She opened the bottom freezer drawer and pulled out one of the three bottles of water she had placed inside. Not yet frozen. Slush. She tied a strap from the boat cushion around the cap and swung it in the air. Pathetic , she thought. Like a Neanderthal swinging a club. But at least Neanderthals had those spiked things. She put it back.
    She paced. She sat.
    The Adirondack squeaked.
    Jenny leapt off the chair and went to her knees. Exposed rusted nails, firm when Ike was president the first time around, bridged divorced pieces of wood. She grabbed the left arm of the chair and jerked it back and forth, up and down, side to side. Really? Stupid thing acts like it can’t support a fly, but you go to tear it apart, and the old warrior gets an attitude.