Gone Bitch (9 page)

“Not hopefully murdered, gotcha,” I said.

“We also need to start working on your image by getting some positive stuff out there. What nice things have you done for Amy in the last year or so?”

“You know...ate her out, made her come, bought her a load of shit.”

“Nick,
romantic
things.”

“Fine,” I said. “Ate her out
tenderly
, bought her a load of
expensive
shit.”

“Come on, Nick, work with me here. Think. I’m sure you’ve done something nice for her recently.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said. “That’s why she’s still with me. She’s a hot girl, remember?”

“Well make something up then. Ok, next thing: have you ever cheated on Amy?”

“Of course.”

“Well I’ll need every detail. Specifically, details about what the girls’ bodies are like and what sex stuff they like to do. If you have any nude photos that would be a big help, and if you have actual sex tapes of them that could be the thing that wins us the case. By the way, you’re not cheating now, are you? Since she disappeared?”

I put my head down like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“You
are
?”

“I couldn’t help it. She’s a college girl, a student in one of my classes.”

“So you actually had sex with her while your wife was missing?”

“Yeah.”

Tanner stared at me for a long beat.

“I like you, Nick Dunne. I like you a lot.”

He stood up and walked over to a mini-fridge. “Clamato?” he asked. I’d never understood Clamato. What is it, exactly? Is it like V8? Do you taste the tomato more, or the clams? Why would anyone think clams taste good with tomato anyway? Is it supposed to be healthy? I kept meaning to look it up on the web every time I saw it, but I always forgot.

“No thanks,” I said.

“Well look Nick, I know this is gonna be tough to hear, but it’s time for some hard reality: you’ve got to cut it off with the college girl.”

“Dude, no way!”

“I know it’s hard giving that up. But if this whole thing goes well you’ll be famous and swimming in pussy. And not just Missouri pussy. We’re talking LA and New York pussy.”

It was strange: once Tanner explained how I’d get even better pussy after this was all over, I immediately accepted cutting things off with Andie without mourning her in the slightest.

Tanner wrapped up our meeting by giving me some talking points to study and saying he’d be flying to Missouri tomorrow to set up shop. He also said it was of the utmost importance that I get some naked pictures of Andie in a cheerleader outfit. I assured him I would and walked out, feeling a thousand times better than when I’d walked in.

Part Two: BOY MEETS BITCH

AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE: The Day Of

Tra and la! I’m dead!

Of course technically, I’m only missing. But as far as everyone else is concerned, I’m dead. Hot girls don’t go missing for a few days then turn up without a scratch. Average-looking girls, maybe. Ugly girls, all the time. But if a hot girl goes missing for even like an hour, you might as well start making funeral arrangements.

I’ve taken multiple precautions to make sure no one will find me. Not the least of which is my getaway vehicle: a Segway. They might go looking for a getaway car, but nobody will look for a getaway Segway. That’s because no one’s ever used a getaway Segway before.

It was a bit shady obtaining the Segway without leaving a paper trail. I’d found an ad for one insanely cheap on Craigslist, and I ended up buying it from a guy in a Walmart parking lot late at night who had a truck loaded with Segways. To top it off, he pronounced it “Sej-way.” Hey, I’m not gonna ask, and I don’t wanna know.

I left Carthage before sunrise and have been cruising along for several hours now. At one point I look in the rearview mirror, Carthage 43 miles behind me, my husband facing a lifetime of being raped in prison, and I just marvel at how easy it’s been. But maybe I’m not giving myself enough credit here. The reason it’s been so easy is because I prepared so well. I pull out my giant checklist and look at the unbroken series of black lines crossing off the various items, and I feel an enormous sense of pride.

Item 18: Cut self and put blood on kitchen floor. Check.

Item 26: Order bazooka, and remember to choose Free Super Saver Shipping at checkout. Check.

Item 41: Make suhweeeeeeet mixtape for Segway ride: some Counting Crows, a little Train, can’t forget Mumford & Sons! Check.

There are only a couple of items left, and I’m about to take care of one of them. I pull into a gas station just off the interstate, and head into the bathroom. I make sure it’s locked, pull out my scissors, and take one last look at my usual hairdo. Time for a little trim! I start snipping at the edges but I’m feeling uninspired, so to get into the mood I put on some salon-quality house music. Boom-chick boom-chick boom-chick! Yeah, that’s more like it. I start getting into it. Really really into it. Work those scissors, girl! Snip snip snip! This hairdresser’s on fire! Finally the song ends, and I check out my handiwork in the mirror.

I’m completely bald.

Maybe the people I yell at in Supercuts aren’t so bad at this after all.

NICK DUNNE: Seven Days 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 hard. Just go into a shower stall and close the curtain, turn on the water and leave it running, and boom, you’ve got your eight hours of privacy.

After a couple of days of living large at 24 Hour FitClub, I start wondering why more people don’t do this. I mean geezus, your rent can be 45 bucks a month! But as I begin to see the same faces at the gym more and more, I realize I’m not the first person to have had this idea. Next time you’re in a 24 Hour FitClub at midnight, look around. Nine out of every ten people you see are living there.

Oh and by the way, if you’re a member of 24 Hour FitClub and not living there, a word of advice: please don’t sing in the shower. Some of us are trying to sleep.

NICK DUNNE: Seven Days Gone

I’d had to phone my world famous lawyer, hours after I’d hired him, and say the words that I was sure would make him regret ever taking my case: “I think my wife is framing me.” But all Tanner said in response was, “Did you get any naked pictures of the college girl yet?”

Tanner also wanted to talk some strategy, but I told him that I needed to get off the phone because that college girl was actually on her way over to have sex. “What?” Tanner said. “Nick fucking Dunne, you need to end this shit right now!”

“But she said we could do babysitter role play,” I pleaded. Tanner wasn’t having it, though. And he was right. I had to end it tonight.

A few minutes later, Andie arrived, greeting me at the door by saying, “Hi, I’m here for the babysitting job?”

“Uh, Andie,” I said, “we need to talk.”

“Right, about my rates,” she said. “Normally it’s $15 an hour. But for $30 an hour I’ll give you the deluxe babysitting package.” And then she started unbuttoning my pants.

“No Andie, we have to
talk
, for real.”

“What’s wrong?” she said.

As Tanner had advised me, this needed to be handled exactly right. The key was to break up with her without getting her so pissed that she’d go public. I started reciting the scripted words Tanner had made me memorize.

“What up what up girl! Yo you be da shiznit, but things are gettin’ all crazy up in here and you gotta step off, aight?”

“What? Why are you talking like that?” Andie said.

It wasn’t working. Thanks a lot, Tanner. I’d just have to improvise.

“Look Andie, what I’m trying to say is, we can’t see each other right now.”

Andie’s lip quivered. “For how long?” she said.

“For a lonnnnng time,” I said. “At least until this all blows over.”

She looked like she was about to cry.

“Look Nick, I need to know: once this is over, are you still committed to me? At least until I get all the required credits for my major?”

“Yes,” I said, taking her hands. “I’m completely committed to you.”

My other disposable phone vibrated loudly. I looked at it and read the text message:

Hey babe open the door I’m outside

“Who’s that?” Andie said.

“Uhhhhh,” I said, “it’s a text from you, on the disposable phone I bought to talk to you! Nothing to worry about.”

Andie opened the front door, and was face to face with another girl her same age.

“Katie?”

“Andie?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are
you
doing here?”

This was not good. “You guys like three-ways?” I asked. Andie gave me her answer by kicking me in the face, one of those power-kicks she’d learned in CrossFit, which is a name hot girls gave “working out” so they could make themselves feel special.

When I came to, Andie and Katie were long gone and my face felt like a balloon. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my cheek now had a large welt that said “NIKE.”

I replayed the conversation with Andie in my mind and smacked myself. Why had I been so incompetent? I should’ve at least gotten a bj before I broke up with her.

Stupid, Nick. Stupid
.

AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE: Five Days Gone

Even though I’m 75 miles outside of Carthage, I’m as up-to-date on the situation there as if I were still at home, thanks to the wall-to-wall cable news coverage. At one point this morning when I was riding the exercise bike, my face was simultaneously on all six of the TVs in the cardio area. Unfortunately I have to watch the coverage with captions rather than sound, because the club still has that sound system only health clubs have where you have to listen to the TVs through an FM radio. WHO HAS AN FM RADIO ANYMORE?