Execution of Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page B

sleep with you. That's not part of the deal.”
    Dick continued to smile. “When you sign a contract with the devil, you never know how many clauses there are to it.”
    Dick was a jerk, but she still thought he was joking.
     
    Later that same day Mary ran into Hannah Spelling, Dick’s twin. She and Hannah were friends but not especially close. They had hung out a few times, at the movies or stores, but had never developed any continuity to their relationship. Mary liked Hannah and wondered if it would be wiser going through her to get to Mr. Spelling. Hannah immediately crushed that possibility after Mary told her what Dick offered to do.
    “My dad will see you if Dick asks,” Hannah said as they stood together in the parking lot, ready to leave school in their respective vehicles. Naturally Hannah’s car was a tad nicer and more expensive—a brand-new Lexus sports coupe, with leather interior and Naka-michi sound. Hannah added, “But if I ask him he’ll pretend I'm not even in the room.”
    “Why is Dick so much closer to your father?” Mary asked.
    “I think because I remind my father of my mother.”
    “Where is she again?” Mary knew Mrs. Spelling wasn’t around, but couldn’t remember why.
    “She's dead.”
    Mary made a face. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn't know.”
    “Then you don’t have to be sorry.” Hannah took a final drag on one of the many Marlboro cigarettes she smoked before crushing the butt under the heel of her black boot. She added, “My father had her killed.”
    “You're joking.”
    “Maybe.” Hannah coughed and wiped aside her blond hair. “I was never sure what happened to Mom.”
    “When did she die? How?”
    “Ten years ago in a car accident.”
    “Anyone can have a car accident,” Mary said.
    “Yeah. But her brakes gave out, and she was driving a brand-new car.”
    This was a topic they had never covered before.
    “How do you feel about your dad now?” Mary asked cautiously.
    Hannah shrugged. “You mean, do I trust him? I don't know if that’s really an issue. I’m his daughter, he buys me what I want and we get along OK.”
    “Sounds sick.”
    “Reality is sick.” Hannah paused. “When are you seeing my dad?”
    “Dick said tomorrow was good. Can he really help get me into Stanford?”
    “If he wants to. He really does know the chancellor.” Hannah tapped out another cigarette, lit it. “You just have to ask yourself what the price is going to be.”
    “Dick says he just wants to go to the dance with me.”
    “Dick wants whatever he can get.” Hannah let go a bitter sigh. “He’ll get it all.”
    “I can handle him,” Mary said.
    “I was talking about the family fortune. Daddy is grooming him to be his heir.”
    “What about you?”
    Hannah blew smoke. “I'm a girl.”
    “You sound like you have a pretty screwed-up family.”
    “Yeah. We're a work of art.” Hannah coughed. “Do you want to get loaded?”
    “I’m not smoking pot these days. I can't think straight the day after.”
    “What do you have to think about?” Hannah asked.
    “You know, getting into Stanford and then going on to become a brain surgeon.”
    “But you still drink alcohol?” Hannah asked.
    Mary had to laugh. “If someone else legal is buying.”
     
    They ended up drinking Seagram’s 7 and Sprite down by the Crossroads, which was a boring place unworthy of its mysterious name, or any name for that matter. It was just a spot out in the woods, five miles from town, where two nondescript roads crossed. Yet because it had a cool name, people congregated there to get loaded, or lustful, or loose. When Mary and Hannah had finished half the bottle of whiskey they were feeling about as loose as two oiled belly dancers. The only problem was there was no one to perform for.
    At least Mary didn't think so.
    It had snowed the night before. They were surrounded by virgin white. The forest was quiet, the trees stood silent watch. They sat on the hood of Hannah's Lexus and let