The Boyfriend

by Freida McFadden

“No, I mean…” He clears his throat. “You should just be careful. Make sure you lock your door. Do you have a dead bolt?”

“Yes.”

“Well use it. Are you still...

“...

“Think you could take a break from it...

“One of my best friends was murdered last night. I’m not exactly thinkin...

“Okay, well,...

“Is there a reason that I should be w...

“Okay,” he finally says, “I’m going to tell you something that we haven’t leaked to the press yet. But I think you should know.”

“Know what?”

“We actually do have a fingerprint match.”

“So how come you haven’t arrested the guy?”

“Because we don’t know whose fingerprints they are.”

“I don’t understand. What do they mat...

“Another crime...

“It was another woman about Bonnie’s age,” he says. “Looked sort of like her too. And there

were other details that were similar. Like what was done to the body before and after death.”

“Something in particular that was similar?”

“Yes,”

“But you have to swear you won’t tell a soul, Syd. This is not public information, ...

“Both women…they had a large chunk of hair snipped from their heads very close to the scalp—at exactly the same spot. And we couldn’t find the hair anywhere in the apartments. So it seems like the killer may have taken it…as a souvenir.”

“A serial killer who planned this in advance would have covered his tracks better. He was obviously careful not to be seen with her publicly or allow himself to appear on social media with her. Who knows if she even knew his real name? But don’t worry. We will find him—sooner or later.”

“Syd,”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

Mouth dropped open like those cartoons , like yes please come over. I pray she said yes

“Are you asking for a bo...

This was even better than her saying no but at the same time WTF No more wine for you

“No! Christ, no.” He sounds flustered in a way I used to find very endearing. “I just thought maybe tonight you wouldn’t want to be alone. And I could, you know, be ...

“It’s fine,” I say. “My friend Gretchen was here all night. And now I’m going to sleep. Besides, it would be weird if you came over.”

“I wouldn’t let it be weird.”

“I don’t know if you have any control over it.” I let out a yawn. “Anyway, I guess I’ll attempt to go to sleep now.”

She is so insufferable right now

“Just make sure you throw that dead bolt.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “Don’t worry so much. Nobody is going to break into my house tonight and murder me. That seems really unlikely.”

Like I get you, but I just don’t like you right now

“Just do it.”

“Yes, Mom,” I grunt. “Anyway, good night. Thanks for the ...

“Good night...

Daisy was slicing some green beans when she let out a yelp. In real life, all she could have possibly done was nick the tip of her finger, but in my dream she had managed to somehow slice off her entire hand. The severed hand lay on the table, the fingers twitching. And Daisy looked up at me with her liquid blue eyes.

Well, Daisy said, now I am uneven. So you’ll have to cut off the other hand so I’ll be symmetrical again.

Even in my dreamlike state I recognized this wasn’t a good idea. But I obligingly took the

carving knife out of the knife block while Daisy lay her right hand down ...

About three or four times a week, I have a dream in which I am stabbing or strangling my beautiful girlfriend.

My relief tonight lasts only a few seconds though. That’s how long it takes to realize what woke me up. It’s the sound of screaming. My mother is screaming.

“Murderers often visit the funerals of their victims. Several have been caught under those circumstances.”

And I truly believe that if he can’t find the person who killed Bonnie, nobody can. But maybe nobody can. Which is a very depressing thought. And a terrifying one.

“If it had been you,” she snaps at me, “Bonnie would have done everything she could to find out who did this to you! She wouldn’t just shrug her shoulders and tell your mother that she’s sorry!”

But instead of Jake, I see something that completely shocks me. It’s Kevin. Kevin is at Bonnie’s funeral.

And who knows? By the time the last bell rings, I could very well be getting marched out of the school in handcuffs.

But then when I see Chief Driscoll sitting in the principal’s office, his large body stuffed into the wooden chair, all my confidence flies out the window. I had no idea Daisy’s father was going to be the one questioning me. As much as I’m intimidated by my father, I’m much more terrified of the police chief. Being interrogated by Chief Driscoll is my worst nightmare.

That’s not entirely true. Brandi never skipped our sessions. I don’t want to miss out on seeing you, Tom.

“Of course, I trust you, Tom.” He manages a smile. “I said to Helen last night, ‘Thank God Daisy is with Tom and not one of those other wild boys. He’s one of the good ones.’”