Freyja hugged herself to stop the shaking. The encounter had been upsetting but that’s not what unsettled her. When she’d told her brother she could easily kill him she wasn’t kidding. Society in general would be better off without Gunnar feeding off it like some multi-tentacle parasite. He was like a moral zombie, once he infected someone they lost their will, became mindless followers, including members of her family, his family. But she really didn’t care that Gunnar was indirectly responsible for BB’s AIDS, that Georgie’s husband’s income came from renovating businesses primarily used to launder drug money, or that Arni’s partner garnered commissions on drug financed real estate transactions. All Freyja wanted was Gunnar and his influence eliminated from her life and the only way she could imagine that happening was for him to die.
Freyja never thought of killing Gunnar herself, but when Big Doug had handed her his gun it all came together. She’d put a bullet in Gunnar’s forehead, than pump a bunch into Doug, wipe the gun clean with her scarf, drop it beside them and carry on to the bus stop. It was dark, the streets were empty and it was the kind of neighbourhood that minded it’s own business. Before the bodies were discovered she’d be on a jet to Mexico.
Gunnar must have hundreds of enemies and competitors that would kill to take over his territory. Freyja didn’t imagine anyone knew he was going to intercept her on the way to the airport. His little sister would never be considered a suspect.
That he was the same person who taught her how to ride a two-wheeler, took her to swimming lessons at Trout Lake, and helped her memorize lines for the grade five Christmas pageant didn’t factor into the equation. That was then, this is now.
But as her finger twitched to pull the trigger a thought flickered across her consciousness.
This it how Gunnar thinks – objectively, analytically, dispassionately, then bang, he kills you.
Revulsion made Freyja shudder. Stooping to his tactics would admit defeat. She’d get him. She was a photographer, she knew about patience and timing. Waiting for the just the right moment made all the difference.
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