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Tonight, it’s going to rain. The weather’s been on the fritz for a few days now, ever since Tim was dealt with, at least. Peter walks along the town street, hopelessly dragging his feet under the gray sky. He can’t help but feel like the Earth is punishing him. Punishing him for the wicked, evil things he’s done in his past. Punishing him for George. Punishing him for Tim. He deserves it.
The gates to the church creak loudly as Peter pushes past them, walking along the path and splitting off to visit the cemetery. Tim’s dying wish was to be buried in the yard of the house of the lord. He was a Christian man, after all. Most people in town are. That’s one less than before, and it’s all your fault, Peter tells himself while clenching his fist so hard that blood drops from his palm.
He was foolish to think that the guilt wouldn’t be this bad. He was so sure of his plan at first. Kill his father, blame Rebecca, get the money, and live out the rest of his life in peace. Then, he motivated Tim a little too much. The clueless man started using his head for once, and Peter’s plan changed. Smash the officer’s head in, wait for it all to blow over and point the finger at his sister, get the money, and skip town. It’s genius! Or, it was genius, until Peter realized he caught feelings. He still had to carry out the job regardless, and now he’s living with the regret.
It didn’t hurt this bad with his own father, so why did it hurt so bad now? Why did his chest ache and squeeze when he lifted up that rock behind George’s barn? Why did the tears fall from his eyes without permission so freely? It shouldn’t hurt this bad, especially not with the man Peter had intentionally pestered and prickled until he opened the case for his own personal gain, but it did. Peter halts himself in front of the absurdly tall headstone and kicks it with a grunt. It does nothing to dull the pain in his heart, it only distracts him.
Sitting down, Peter looks up at the sky. It’s going more gray with the minute, dark clouds rolling along and the distant sound of Thunder carrying in from the next town over. For the past few days, it’s been raining nonstop, like the clouds and wind were crying and mourning with the people of the village. Peter chided himself for thinking so foolishly, but sometimes, and he’ll never admit it, he swears the clouds look like sheep running around. He blames it on his slipping sanity.
Reaching into the inner pocket of his flannel, Peter pulls out a bottle of cheap liquor. He’s not sure what it is, as he grabbed it from off of Tim’s desk earlier today. He pops the cap open, slowly pouring a bit out on the freshly dug up dirt surrounding Tim’s coffin. He sits back on his legs, letting the dirt stain his pants, and takes a sip from the bottle. It tastes like Tim. He nearly throws it. The only thing that stops him is the sound of surprise coming from behind his hunched figure. Mentally, he groans.
“Oh, Elliot,” he hears Beth’s voice begin, “it’s nice to see you finally visiting Tim after being a shut-in for a week.” Had it been that long? Peter can’t tell anymore. He turns around, bracing his arm on the side of the tombstone, looking up at Beth with the expression of a guilty dog. Done, checked out, and perpetually tired. Beth inspects the bottle in his hands, then frowns. Not in a way that shows she’s worried, but rather upset with him. “Why are you drinking here? Just because we don’t have an officer anymore, doesn’t mean you can go around town drunk.”
Peter just grunts at her, pouring some more of the alcohol into the dirt. He doesn’t wanna talk with her. He doesn’t wanna talk with anyone. He just wants to sit and share a drink with his friend, act like nothing ever happened. She doesn’t leave him alone though. She continues to pester, unsatisfied with his empty answers.
“I’m onto you, Elliot. I saw you leave that night, don’t think I don’t keep track of that sort of thing.” Peter’s eyes snap open as she says that. He whips his head around, hand clenching so hard around the neck of the bottle that it’s going numb. He sees her take a step back, hand placed on the brick wall, ready to defend herself and run. She’s a smart, smart woman. She just needs the evidence.
Peter still tries to defend himself nonetheless. “Oh shut up, you really think I’d do something like that? You don’t know how much Tim meant to me,” he snarls. He feels the unrelenting urge to take the bottle and smash it over her head, but resists. He knows that in the end, it’d only cause more trouble for himself. He’d be found out. Additionally, she wouldn’t die just from that. What if she got away? He keeps his feet still to tell himself no.
Beth scoffs in his face. “Please, don’t make me laugh. You met him, what, a few days before he died? You’re not as smart as you think you are, Elliot. Showing up the day before George was poisoned, exiting the inn just a matter of hours before Tim was estimated to be killed? I can see right through you. I just have to prove it.”
Peter takes another swig from the bottle then pours the rest out. Using the help of the tombstone, he stands up, shaking and struggling just to stay planted on both feet at once. He hates to admit it, but after he solved the issue of Tim being too smart and almost figuring him out, he wasn’t able to leave bed for days. The guilt ate up at him too much, and now here he stands, sickly, weak, and angry.
Beth slowly steps back, expecting Peter to give chase. He doesn’t. He just stares at her with red-rimmed eyes and waits for her to leave. Maybe she doesn’t know just how weak he’d let himself get in the past however long it’s been. Once she disappears, he can hear her rapid footsteps running away, making sure he won’t catch her. He drops back down, tracing the letters in Tim’s headstone.
He should’ve known she’d find out eventually. Like he said earlier, she’s a smart, smart woman. Given enough time, she’d be able to figure out anything if not mislead. All that matters now is for him to remain innocent looking. It doesn’t matter what she knows if she can’t prove anything.
Thunder cracks loudly overhead, and little by little, the rain begins to fall. It’s light at first, then darkens into a heavy downpour. Peter forces himself to sit through nature’s punishment. Punishing him for Tim. He deserves it.