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us what we’re looking at,” one of the new cops said. “Help us understand.”
     
    “It all started when I overheard Charlie and my wife planning to kill me…”
     
    Two of the officers turned to the others and smiled, like they’d all heard this story a thousand times.
     
    “Look asshole, I didn’t do anything. Stop making out like I’m guilty.”
     
    “Mister, stand up and place your hands on your head. Do it now.”
     
    “I will not. I did nothing wrong.”
     
    “That’s not for us to decide. Stand up and place your hands on your head. I will not tell you again.”
     
    Matt let go of Fran, set her broken head down in the grass, and started to stand. Five of the six officers held their hands over their holsters. The one talking to Matt had handcuffs in his hands.
     
    Matt looked down at his wife. “Is this what you wanted? Was this how I get killed?”
     
    “What’s that?” the cop asked.
     
    Matt looked back at him. “You’re in the picture now.”
     
    “I’m not following.”
     
    “If I was back in my den, I would be able to watch you. You’re in the picture now.”
     
    “Hands on your head. Now. Last chance to do it peacefully.”
     
    “There’s nothing you can do to me that would hurt me more than what has already happened. I’m innocent here. Fuck you if you think otherwise.”
     
    Matt stepped out from the foliage and made it three steps. He was tased before he even knew what hit him.
     
    With no muscle control, Matt fell and rolled away, down the small embankment, and into the creek. He slipped below the surface of the water, and moved from the edge with the current.
     
    The officers ran to the edge and looked over. Matt was already four feet from them and moving away fast.
     
    Nothing in his body seemed to work. He could only breathe.
     
    He took in a large breath. His mouth filled with water, his lungs enlarging with it.
     
    He detected a splash nearby. But it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing else mattered.
     
    Maybe he didn’t see the picture in his office move. Perhaps he knew about Charlie all along. But could he kill his own wife? Did he kill her?
     
    Or was it the painting that showed him the truth?
     
    He drifted down the creek and in and out of consciousness.
     
    His chest hurt. His heart hurt. His head ached.
     
    And then nothing.
     

A Greater Justice

    The sun was dropping behind a curtain of blackened clouds. The evening air felt cool and moist against Jerry’s forehead.
     
    There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do, or try, at least once. But meeting with a psychic was something he had never considered. His wife had pushed for it. Ever since Joshua died last year, she’d been worried that the same fate would be cast upon them, and she wanted to be sure they were safe.
     
    Like anyone can predict the future, Jerry thought to himself as Ashley pulled on the door and entered the psychic’s home.
     
    “Good evening.”
     
    Jerry turned around and almost laughed. The psychic stood behind him wearing an ugly green sweater, three different chains around her neck, and stupid earrings that did some kind of multiple loop thing. She was definitely a smoker. No one could have that many wrinkles and not have benefitted from the help of a healthy carcinogen.
     
    He stepped back and held his composure.
     
    Ashley extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you,” she said.
     
    “I’m sorry, I don’t touch people. Only when doing readings.”
     
    Ashley lowered her hand. Jerry could tell she was a little embarrassed.
     
    The psychic didn’t move. She didn’t offer to take their jackets, or show them to a table. All she did was stare at Jerry. He looked back at her, his eyes unwavering. Many men had stared him down in darker corners than this. He’d almost killed a man in prison six months ago because of this exact kind of disrespect. He wasn’t about to wink, let alone look away.
     
    The psychic blinked. He saw a chill run through her shoulders as they