Ya. The last chapter was kind of like the comic relief. I just had this image in my head of Clover beating the shit out of Shooter with something. I just thought it would be funny as hell.

Neither Mort nor I had any idea what Shooter was talking about and neither of us really wanted to know. We were both sure it couldn't be a good thing if Shooter was behind it. Clover didn't show up anymore that day and Shooter spent most of his time on the dock.

Mort and I decided we'd go for a walk about mid-day. He seemed to like taking walks in the woods. There was a path not too far away from his house and he told me that there was a beautiful little clearing there.

As we walked down the little path he seemed a little nervous. It was like he wanted to ask or tell me something we couldn't bring himself to do it. When we reached little cleaning we both sat down in the middle.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he whispered.

"Tell right now," I demanded. "I have a right to know what is troubling you so much."

"Alright. Here goes nothing. The police called this morning," He explained. "They said that they found your mother dead in the bathroom. It looked like she had slipped getting out of the shower. When they couldn't find you in the house they started looking for you right away. The neighbors sent them to me because they knew you were working here. I told them that you were with me all last night. I lied for you. I don't know why I did it I just did it. Happy?"

"You think I killed her?" I asked. "Is that why you are acting so nervous? Do you think I'm a murder?"

"Yes," he said and quickly shook his head. "No. I don't know what to think. You don't seem like the killing type to me. If you did do it someone put you up to it and I got a good idea of who did."

"You can't blame Shooter for everything," I snapped.

"So you did kill her," he said.

I stopped breathing for a second. I had just given myself away. Great job Shadow.

"Yes I did," I confessed. "I didn't do it because Shooter told me to. I did it for me. I did it so that we could be together forever. My mother was a bitch. She would never let us be together while she was alive."

Mort didn't answer me. He had picked up a small stick and was making small circles in the soft dirt. It looked like he was thinking.

"Do you hate me now?" I asked.

"Of course not," he said tossing the stick aside.

"How can you not hate me?" I questioned. "I killed my own mother. Any normal person would be repulsed and running to the police by now."

"Shooter put you up to it," Mort said. "You didn't come up with this idea out of no where."

"He did suggest it to me," I said. "But I did it out of my own free will. He didn't force me to do anything. You didn't answer me question."

"Which one?" He asked.

"How can you not hate me?" I repeated.

"That would make me hypocrite," Mort said in a soft tone.

My eyes widened in understanding. What Shooter had said was true. Mort was a murder. The rumors must have been true too. He had killed his ex-wife and that man she had been messing around with. The sheriff was right on track.

If I had learned this information before I had killed my mother I would have ran for the hills. I couldn't do that. I was a murder myself. I couldn't run from Mort or hate him because he was a murder. That would make me a hypocrite and I hate hypocrites.

"I don't really remember killing them," he said looking down at the dirt. "But I'm sure I did it."

"How can you be sure if you can't remember?" I asked.

"Feelings I get," Mort explained. "When I got that phone call this morning I was sure I had killed Amy and Ted. Even though I couldn't remember it I was sure it had happened. Does that sound strange?"

"A little but it's understandable," I said.

"I'm glad we came clean with each other," Mort said with a light sigh.

"Me too," I stated with a smile. "It feels like we're starting over. We're cleaning our slates."

"Now that we are being totally honest with each other let's put our heads together and figure out what it is Shooter is planning," Mort suggested.

"I think I know what is going on but we need to do something before I can be sure," I explained standing up.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Come on," I said taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. "I'll explain it all later."

Hand in hand we walked back to the house.