Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

“And that is where we differ.” He tilted his head, an edge to his voice.

“Looks like your profiting quite nicely from this tragedy. Is that a full tour you got?” Kimberley looked past them at the people milling about the former crime scene.

“Murder has been good for business.” Kent Jr. smirked.

Kimberley clenched her fist. Don’t deck him. Don’t deck him. Don’t deck him. She repeated to herself. She wiggled life back into her fingers, composing herself. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it again. The smugness on his face infuriated her.

“What my boy meant to say is, although it was devastating what happened to Hannah, it’s provided our family with so much, like reincarnation of a sort. I’m getting bookings again, lots of them. So much business, I had to bring Kent Jr. in on it just to help me manage, which was lucky since he lost his job a while back. We plan to do it all—merchandise, a documentary and a book,” Kent said, overjoyed by his own success.

Kimberley tasted bile in the back of her throat.

“Hannah hasn’t even been buried yet. Seems sick, don’t you think?” She tried to remain cool, calm, and collected.

“Nothing sick about capitalism,” Kent Jr., said, raising his chin.

Nope. She couldn’t do it. Not the second time. Her hand clenched again forming a fist, but this time rather than staying by her side, she reeled it back and slammed it into Kent Jr. fuckface’s nose. She heard a crunch, like stepping on a gravel driveway. Blood instantly poured from his nose like a faucet in his head had been turned on. Kimberley pulled her fist back just as he fell backward, his ass hitting the ground in the exact spot that Hannah’s head laid just a few days before.

“What the fuck?” he yelled, trying to tip his head back while holding his nose that Kimberley knew for sure was broken.

She shook out her hand and took a step back.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Kent spit, while attempting to help his son.

“Just seizing an opportunity,” she said sarcastically. But in her head, Kimberley was kicking herself for what she had done.

“I’m reporting this to Sam,” Kent yelled out as Kimberley walked away, passing by the tour guests. Those that saw what happened stared and whispered.

“No need. I’ll do it myself,” Kimberley called over her shoulder.

“Fucking bitch,” Kent Jr. yelled, but the blood pouring from his nose made him sound gurgly, rather than threatening.

Kimberley shook out her hand a couple more times as she walked up to the road. Regardless of how pissed off Sam would be, she would never regret hitting that prick. She looked down at her knuckles, a blue tint already spreading over them. She liked the way it looked. A small blemish of justice.

Kimberley hopped out of her vehicle and sprinted toward the Happy Trails Daycare Center. She was ten minutes late thanks to her run-in with Dipshit Senior and Junior. Nicole had offered to pick up Jessica, but Kimberley needed to speak with the daycare teacher anyway, and she hadn’t gotten to pick up Jessica all week. The point of moving to Dead Woman Crossing was to spend more time with her daughter, but it wasn’t happening as of yet. At least, she was making it home for dinner, which she rarely did in the city. She threw open the doors and there, sitting on the floor playing with a stack of colored blocks, was Jessica.

Jessica looked up, her face instantly brightening when she saw her mother. She stood and ran toward her clumsily. Kimberley bent down, reaching out her arms, and as soon as Jessica was safely in them, she lifted her into the air, twirling her around.

“I missed you so much, baby,” Kimberley said, kissing both sides of her cheeks.

Jessica wiped at her face giggling. “Ma-ma. Missed… you,” she said.

Kimberley smiled so wide she thought her lip might split. “Such a smart girl, you are.”

It was important to Kimberley to always tell her daughter how smart, strong, and clever she was. She wanted Jessica to grow up valuing strength and intelligence over looks.

“Next time you’re late, I’ll have to charge you for the after-school program,” Margaret said, standing from a chair.

Kimberley hadn’t even noticed her sitting there.

She set Jessica down, careful to not get her legs caught up on her utility belt. “Play with your blocks, sweetie,” she said.

Jessica ran back to her stack of blocks, sitting back down beside them.

“Sorry about that, Margaret. I got held up at work.”

“It’s okay. I understand you’re under a lot of pressure with the Hannah Brown case. I appreciate your efforts, and I hope you catch the person responsible, so we can all rest a little easier at night,” Margaret said. Her stern face had become soft and sympathetic.

“Thanks. Actually, I had a couple of questions for you about that. Do you have time to speak now?”

“Certainly. Anything I can do to help.”

Margaret took a seat and motioned for Kimberley to sit in the chair across from her. She walked to the chair, taking the seat she’d indicated, and pulled out her notepad and pen.

“You were Isobel’s daycare teacher, correct?”

“Yes, since she turned twelve months old and moved up to toddler care around two months ago.” Margaret nodded as she spoke.

“Did anyone ever drop or pick Isobel up beside Hannah or her mother?”

“Not that I can think of. I can check her emergency contact sheet to see if she had anyone else down.”

“That’d be great.” Kimberley smiled.

Margaret rose from her seat and disappeared down the hallway. Kimberley glanced over at her daughter as she held up a blue block.

“What color is that, Jessica?”

Jessica looked at the block, turning it over in her tiny hands, then looked back at her mother. “Boo.”

“Bl-ue. That’s right. Such a smart girl,” Kimberley gushed.

“Here you are,” Margaret said, entering the room and extending out a yellow file folder. “All of the information Hannah put down is