The quiet night was suddenly shattered by the sound of a shot. Laura sat up quickly, sheets tangled around her sleep numb body. For a moment, she just stayed there, trying to tell herself that she had imagined the noise. It might have worked if an identical noise wouldn't have sounded seconds later.

The second shot spurred her into motion. She struggled momentarily with the sheets before breaking free and running to her bedroom door. She ignored the haughty portraits of her ancestors as she raced down the hall and then down the stairs.

It seemed to take forever to reach the study. As she approached it, her steps slowed and she hesitated. She didn't know whether she was brave enough to enter the room where a wild sobbing could be heard.

The pain in the sobs finally decided her and she threw open the door. Her eyes took in everything quickly--the blood on the floor, Jake lying unnaturally still on the carpet, and Lori sitting close by him, her arms wrapped around herself, sobbing and speaking incoherently.

Laura strained to hear what her twin was saying, but it sounded just like babble. Noting that the gun was no longer in Lori's hand, Laura moved forward into the room.

The first words Laura made out were, "I did it for you, you know." This was followed by another stream of incomprehensible gibberish.

Laura's mouth fell open, but she still moved towards her sister and put an arm around her. "Shh," she said calmly, although at the moment she felt anything but calm. She felt shocked and anxious. However, she was uncomfortably aware that she was also feeling an undercurrent of relief and gratitude.

Lori buried her head in her twin sister's shoulder, still sobbing, although she had stopped trying to talk. Laura stroked Lori's hair and avoided looking at the spot where Jake was laying.

After a few minutes had passed and Lori had calmed down considerably, Laura decided that it was time to ask some questions. "Lori, what happened?" she asked.

Lori wiped her eyes. "He called while you were out, and -"

"Wait, who called?" Laura interrupted gently.

"Jake," Lori explained. "He asked for you and I told him you weren't home, that you were on a date. I told him that you had moved on and that he should too."

"And then?"

"It took me forever to get him off the phone. He said he was coming over right away to see you. Nothing I said made any difference. He finally just hung up. He must've left right away because I tried to call him back to reason with him but there was no answer." Lori paused and sniffled. "I kept expecting him any moment, but I didn't want to worry you when you got back so I didn't say anything."

"So that's why you were so odd," Laura said.

Lori nodded miserably. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I convinced you that you looked tired and I told you to go to bed. Then about a half-hour later, he arrived. I told him I was you, just that I had gotten a haircut. I think he believed me."

"What happened then?" Laura asked, impatient to hear the rest.

"Well, we went into the study to talk, and we got into an argument. Then he pulled out the gun."

Laura gasped. "The gun was his?"

Lori looked hurt. "Of course it was!" she said, indignant. "Do you think I'd kill a man in cold blood?"

Laura looked guilty. "Of course not, that's not what I meant."

Lori shrugged. "It was either me or him," she said. "Thank goodness he was drunk, or I never could've taken him the way I did."

"All those years of martial arts didn't hurt as well, I'm sure," Laura said.

Laura was rewarded with the tiniest flicker of a smile, but it soon dissapeared. "What are we going to do, Laura?" Lori asked, once again distraught.

Laura bit her lip and thought hard. "There's only one thing to do," she said. "Bury the evidence."

Laura left Lori in the diningroom, far away from the body, while she went to change out of her pajamas. As she climbed the stairs, her mind went over and over what her sister had told her. It frightened her and it also relieved her a little. Jake Harrison was a man who drank a lot, and even when he wasn't drinking, his temper was what could be called unpredictable. Since she had broken up with him about four months before, his behavior towards her had pendulumed between ferocious rage and contrite tears. It scared the hell out of her.

The fear of what would happen to her and Lori now was nothing compared to the fear she had felt whenever she saw Jake. At least this way she'd get away with her life.

In her closet, Laura found the black clothes she used for inspiration when writing. They consisted of a tight turtleneck sweater and thin black jogging pants. This was rounded out with a small black cap that she could tuck all of her auburn hair into. When she had bought this outfit at a thrift shop, hoping to see into the minds of the criminals her novels were about, she never dreamed she'd be using it in this way. But if there was one thing she had learned in her research, it was that black often can hide blood stains and that it helps to blend into invisibility.

When she got back downstairs, Lori was right where she left her. Lori's face was still pale, and her eyes were wide hollows, but she had stopped shaking, and the horror had gone out of her features.

"Where is your dark jacket?" Laura asked in her most business-like way. She was surprised that the tightness in her belly did not sound in her voice.

"I...in the closet I think."

"Go grab it, and I'll go get our friend."

Lori stared at her for a moment, then nodded. Laura took a deep breath, then made her way towards the study. Her teeth tried to rattle in nervousness, but she clamped them together stubbornly. She was determined not to break down in front of Lori...not until they had done what they needed to.

The first thing Laura's eyes rested on when she opened the door was not the body. It was the gun. What was she going to do with it?

She obviously couldn't hide it anywhere on the property -- if anyone found it, there would be too many questions. She could throw it in the lake, of course. She had to breathe and think rationally. Like a criminal.

I am a criminal after tonight, she reminded herself, and the cold reality finally washed over her. She forced her eyes to rest upon Jake's lifeless form, his drying blood staining the antique rug Grandmother had given her for her sweet sixteen. It, too, would have to go.

Jake was lying face-up, though his lower half was twisted behind him. The gun he'd brought must have packed quite a wollop to make him land like that. His eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling but seeing nothing. Even after all he'd done to her, all she'd gone through trying to be rid of him, her heart broke at the sight.

But there was no time for remorse or pity. They had to get the body out of here.

It's not too late, her rational mind piped up. You can still call the police and explain what happened.

She quickly pushed the thought away. Yes, they might believe what was a far-fetched story (even if it was the truth), but Jake Harrison had been influential in life. She couldn't take the chance. Besides, it was Lori's life on the line, not her own. She could risk her own, but not her sister's.

Fine, screamed the persistent voice, and Laura thought she might be going crazy. Tell them you did it. Tell them Lori was the one asleep upstairs. Tell them anything, but tell them something.

It was logical. It was rational. And had Lori not appeared in the doorway at that moment, looking like a Gucci commando, she might have gone with her voice's plan. But one look at Lori's frightened face told her this was the only way. She couldn't explain why, but no one could know that Jake had been here tonight.

"Grab that side of the rug," she ordered her sister. "We need to roll him up in it. Don't give me that face, Lori. It's soaked in his blood."

"What about the gun?" Lori asked, staring at the weapon that she had used to take someone's life.

Back to the question of the gun. Luckily, Laura was getting an idea. "Give me your handkerchief."

Lori complied, and Laura used it to pick up the weapon and give it a throrough wiping. There could be no prints, or the plan was pointless. She put the pistol in her pocket, still wrapped in the white cloth, then bent over to help Lori roll the carpet around Jake.

"On the count of three," She said. "One... Two... Three!"

Both women grunted at the weight as they lifted the body and carried it awkwardly toward the foyer door. Once there, they set him down so that Laura could tell her sister what the plan was.

"You go start the car. Pop the trunk, too. We'll put him there until we get where we're going."

"Where's that?" Lori's voice betrayed her worry.

"Father's plant. They have an incinerator there big enough to..." She realized she couldn't complete the thought.

"Oh my god!" Tears started to waver in Lori's eyes again, and for a moment Laura thought she was going to lose it again. Surprisingly, in spite of the macabre method of disposal, Lori kept it together.

"Go. We need to do this and get home as quickly as possible. If anyone sees us, this will be a moot discussion."

Lori nodded and rushed out the door.

This is crazy, Laura told herself. We're going to get caught. We'll both be arrested and convicted and sent to prison. There is no way we can get away with this.

But looking down at the roll at her feet, somehow Laura knew they would, indeed, get away with it. After the hell she'd gone through with Jake, it seemed to her that Karma would demand it.

Outside, everything was quiet as Laura had expected. It was so late that everyone else in their household was fast asleep, and even if they weren't, chances were that they wouldn't be able to see the dark figures flitting through the darkness.

Jake was quite heavy, but with each young woman taking an end of the rug, they were able to stagger towards Laura's black Oldsmobile. As quickly as they could, they dumped Jake inside the open trunk, then jumped in the car. The car started almost noiselessly, and Laura left the lights off as they crept down the driveway.

She snuck a glance at Lori, who looked as pale as a ghost in the faint moonlight. For Laura, this was hard, but for her twin it must have been terrifying. For one thing, Lori had never read, researched, and eventually written mystery novels. She wasn't level-headed or outgoing. In fact, most of the time, she was scared of everything. If anyone was to pick one of them to become a murderer, it certainly wouldn't have been Lori. But here it was.

Laura offered her twin a small, comforting smile. Lori attempted to return it, but she failed.

At the end of the driveway, Laura turned the headlights on. She would be turning them off when they turned into the plant, but until then, a car on the road wouldn't seem suspicious, even if it was so late at night.

Laura pulled out onto the dimly lit street. Hands merely touching the wheel, she drove past the neighborhood she and Lori had grown up in. Her mind had worked so fast that night that it had begun to slow down to a dull numb feeling, and it was all she could do just to keep her focus on the road.

The gun pressed into her body; she could feel the cold steel through the cloth of her pants.

Laura glanced at her sister every once in a while along the way, but Lori didn't really seem to be there. She looked so small and helpless sitting there... sitting shotgun. The pun made her cringe, and her body twitched violently at the remembrance of Jake's bloody corpse, a gaping hole in his chest.

"Laura," Lori's voice snapped her out of her haze, "we're here."