Jack slept late. His lifted his head from the pillow and immediately felt the pounding ache the whiskey left as a reminder of the self-pity he doused himself with the night before. He cursed himself for letting the whiskey win last night and forced his body out of bed. Soon he was standing in the bathroom staring at his reflection in the mirror after downing three extra-strength Tylenol.
He looked like shit.
Jack got in the shower and cleaned up as best he could. The thumping in his head lingered; the Tylenol didn’t have the effect he hoped for. He fried up a couple of eggs, slapped them between two pieces of toast, and forced them down into his belly. He felt only slightly better.
Jack sat down in the front room and stared at the frigid landscape outside. The winds calmed overnight but not before they left the streets, homes, and trees buried under a blanket of naked whiteness. The scene was not yet touched by shovel or grader.
He thought about last night. The truth hurt deep. He could not deny what he had done and realized he would never be able to separate his love for Donna from what he did. He felt fractured as if he had two demons within him splitting him apart. One wanted to scream and fight its way out. It screamed, "Stop! Stop!" and wished things never went this far. It wanted to rewind time. The other demon was harsh and cruel. It was determined to finish what needed finishing.
He wanted to laugh, but had neither the energy nor the motivation. Dean still had no evidence linking him to Donna's murder, and Jack needed to ensure it stayed that way. That meant Jack had to make sure all eyes remained on Josh as long as possible. David Chow was the unexpected ingredient, and Jack had no idea what David was capable of. He didn’t know if David would even hold off long enough for Jack to finish his plan.
Just a few more days, and it would all be done.
Jack had spent years planning the details behind the DNA. He planned and gathered, sorted and rejected, over and over again until he had the perfect specimens. Fred and Donna both unknowingly showed him that Josh was the perfect suspect, and they provided the opportunity for Jack to weave them all together. It was so carefully planned.
And now David came along.
Jack stood up, walked to the front window, and stared out at the frozen landscape.
"Fuck you, David Chow," he whispered softly. His breath fogged up the glass as the words left his lips. "Fuck you..."