Free Gone Bitch by Steve Lookner Page A

Gone
     
     
     
    On the plane ride back from New York, I’d studied clue 4 for so long I’d memorized it.
     
It’s time for clue 4, the one after clue 3,
In which I reveal the location of your gift from me!
It isn’t in the closet like chess or checkers,
It’s where you store goodies for playing with your pecker.
     
    Amy had taken mercy on me and made this final clue a little easier. She was clearly talking about the woodshed behind Go’s house where I kept my extra porn. I’d accumulated so much porn that I’d run out of room in my house to store any more. Every nook and cranny was filled with it: under the sink, behind pieces of furniture, in the crisper drawer of the fridge. But Go had this rickety storehouse in the backyard she never used, so I asked if I could use it. She said I could, as long as I didn’t actually jerk off to the porn in there.
    As soon as my plane landed I headed directly to Go’s. I was filled with nervous anticipation as Go and I approached the shed and I opened the door. Would this be the day I finally got Beats headphones like the rest of the world? Would they make my favorite songs sound even better than they have before, and make me feel like I’ve never really heard the songs until now?
    When I looked inside, however, I had to lean against the wall to catch my breath.
    “Oh my god,” I said. “She’s been buying stuff with my credit card.”
    The storehouse was completely filled, all 720 cubic feet of it, with porn. And also a set of golf clubs shoved into an opening in the porn.
    “Holy shit,” said Go. “You mean she ordered all of this and secretly put it in here?”
    “Well not all of it,” I said. “Some of it’s mine.”
    “How much is yours?”
    I made a gesture which encompassed everything but the golf clubs.
    “Wait, you’re saying she bought just the golf clubs?”
    “Can you believe it?” I said. “Can you believe that my wife went on a crazy shopping spree and bought golf clubs on my credit card? This is identity theft!”
    Then in a flash, it all came together: Amy was framing me. The police would find the newly purchased, hidden golf clubs, and assume I’d bought the clubs to use after I murdered my wife. Just like they’d found the “signs of a struggle” in the living room that Amy left for them, and found the blood on the kitchen floor that Amy put there. “Shit, I am fucked,” I said.
    “Because the police are gonna find these golf clubs and conclude you’re the murderer?” Go asked.
    “No, because the police are gonna find this porn and confiscate it,” I said. “All my good DP scenes are in here! Hey, do you have an extra external hard drive I could burn some of this shit onto?”
     

AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE: The Day Of
     
     
     
    Item 12 on my Murder-Framing To Do List had been to buy a bunch of leisure activity-related stuff on Nick’s credit card, so everyone would think he’d been preparing for the good life after he killed me. You know, fishing gear, a jet ski, the works. What I didn’t realize is that due to the amount of porn Nick had bought, he only had $175 left on all of his credit lines combined. So I had to settle for buying a single set of used golf clubs. And not even a whole set — I could only afford the irons.
    But some parts of the plan had gone even better than expected. I’d planned on renting some cheap little cabin in the Ozarks where no one would bother me and I could hide out for a while, but on the way there I’d noticed a 24 Hour FitClub. It was one of the ones that’s really open 24 hours, not one of the bullshit ones that closes at 9 and should be called 16 Hour FitClub. I realized that the price of a monthly membership there was way less than it would be to rent a cabin, and plus I’d have cable TV, wireless, a jacuzzi, a steam room, unlimited clean towels, and a gym membership to boot!
    You might think that finding a place to sleep at 24 Hour FitClub would be an issue, but it’s really not that