Live and Let Die (21 page)

“I said, put your hands in front of you.”

She hesitated a moment before she complied and placed her hands in front of her. He ripped a piece of duct tape from a roll stuffed in the pocket of his coat and cut it with the blade of his Army knife before he jerked it around her delicate wrists. He followed suit with another piece that he slapped over her mouth. Satisfied, he started the car and let it warm up for a few minutes.

“Get down,” he said. “On the floor. Get down.”

Tears streaming down her face, she looked out the window at Rusty once more, who hadn’t moved, before she struggled to crouch down into the tiny space between the seat and the dash. They drove in silence. The roads were still like an Icee and he had to stay focused in order not to crash. He was surprised she hadn’t put up more of a struggle. He decided she was one of those submissive types, figuring if she just did what she was told, he would let her go, unharmed. Muffled sobs floated up from where she was wedged and for a moment, he felt bad. He never wanted any of this. But he had to do it. He loved Tracy. If he could just take her away from all those distractions. It had to be done.

This was the only way.

He caught another salt truck on the way back North, which made the trip to Belmont Harbor easier. He eased his car into the marina parking lot and turned it off. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Quickly, he opened the driver’s side door and ran over to the passenger side. He wrenched her out of the car and brought her around to the trunk, keeping his arm fastened around her waist. He used his remote to pop open the trunk and reached in to grab the small black duffel bag lodged in one dark corner. She was still crying and all he could think was how he would be glad when this was over. Clutching her arm with one hand, he dragged her over to the snack shack that sold ice cream and hot dogs in the summer, but now stood boarded up and empty. He shoved her against the side of the building facing the lake. He pulled his Swiss Army knife back out of his coat pocket and flicked it open. The blade glistened, cutting a swatch of light against the fluffy bits of white snow swirling around them.

“A Swiss Army knife may be small, but it can do a lot of damage. Especially if I jam it into your carotid artery,” he whispered as he trailed it along her exposed neck. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” Her head jerked up and down like one of those bobble-head dolls people were fond of putting on their dashboards.

Phillip licked his lips. “Good. Now, I’m going to cut the tape and open this bag. When I do, I want you to get undressed and put on the clothes that are in this bag. Don’t scream and don’t try to run, because I will catch you. Do you understand?”

She closed her eyes and as tears squeezed from beneath the lids, she nodded once more.

“Okay. Go.” He pressed the knife to her throat while he watched.

With wobbly hands, Carol stripped her own clothes off. He could see the goose bumps pop up on her quivering flesh as the blowing snow pelted her bare skin. She was still in her bra and panties when she went to reach for the duffel bag. He stopped her.

“Underwear, too,” he said.

She shook her head.

He squashed the tip of the knife against her. “Yes.”

Her body shuddering with quiet sobs, she held one hand in front of her breasts and reached the other around the back to unhook her bra. Keeping the same hand in front of her, she awkwardly removed her white bikini briefs and let them drop to the frozen ground.

“There’s a bra and panties in the bag. Put them on.”

Trembling, she yanked on the black bra and panty set. There was a running outfit of spandex pants and long-sleeved polyester top, thick white cotton socks and running shoes in the duffel bag. Finally, she changed into a bright green windbreaker and stood in front of Phillip, terrified of what was next.

“Give me all your jewelry,” he said, holding out his hand.

His eyes followed the bright red tips of her fingers, as she slid her engagement and wedding rings off her finger. She fumbled as she tried to remove the flimsy gold chain that looped through a small cross around her neck, before he got impatient and ripped it off. He fished Tracy’s wedding ring set and gloves out of his coat pocket and handed them to Carol.

“Put these on.”

She dutifully slipped another woman’s platinum band and engagement ring on her finger and her gloves over her hands. Pleased that it was almost over, Phillip seized her arm and began to wrench her in the direction of the massive boulders that lay kitty-corner to the green Indian statue just to the south of Belmont Harbor. He tore the duct tape from her mouth. Her breath escaped her lips in terse puffs as she swallowed the frigid air in gigantic gulps.

“Oh, God, what are you going to do to me?”

“Don’t worry, it will be over soon.”

“Please, please, I’m begging you, please, please don’t do whatever you’re thinking.” The panic in her voice was palpable, and again he felt a momentary twinge. He brushed it off and concentrated on what had to be done.

“It’s too late for that. I’m really sorry. But I have to do this.”

She yelped as he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into the firmly packed snow atop the pointy boulders. She cried as he dropped to his knees to straddle her, positioning them so the rocks wouldn’t dig into them. A river of snot ran out of her nose and even in the dark, he could see her eyes were bloodshot from all the crying. She writhed and twisted as she tried to get away. Phillip calmly picked up a hefty rock and held it aloft over his head. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was about to do.

“Please, please! I don’t want to die! I just got married! I don’t want to die! Please, please don’t kill me! Oh, God, please! Please don’t do this! Please!”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

With a quiet grunt, he smashed the rock down across her face. The sound of the rock crushing the delicate bones of her face, splintering the sturdiness of her skull and silencing her desperate pleadings was deafening. Her screams gave way first to a choked gurgling before lapsing into a dull buzz. Her body thrashed beneath him before it finally shuddered into stillness. Her face was now nothing more than a jiggly bowl of strawberry and grape jelly. One eyeball had escaped the socket and hung to the side. Blood gushed out of her and seeped into the brilliant whiteness like a snow cone pumped full of sticky sweet syrup. Panting, he struggled to his feet. Running his gloved hand across his own face, he took deep, jagged breaths.

It was done.

He looked around. It was supposed to snow through the night, so it was likely she wouldn’t be found until the end of the week, when a major thaw was expected. Sniffing, he looked down at her one last time, before stepping over her body. He stuffed her clothes into the duffel bag and zipped it shut. On his way back to the car, he tossed the wallet over his shoulder onto the ground, the plastic vinyl inside flap blowing open to reveal the beaming smile on Tracy Ellis’ driver’s license picture.

P
aula shut her eyes against the splatters of vomit on the glossy white tiles. She’d been hunched over the toilet for the better part of two hours and now lay in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, her cheek pressed against her fluffy white bath rug. She clutched her stomach, as though she could halt the nausea through mere touch.

She never got sick—well once, she’d had a cold. A bad one. Phillip had been furious, accusing her of getting sick on purpose so she could get out of taking care of him—of breaking her promise. She had been so tired and had just wanted to lie in bed and sleep. He made her keep up with her duties for the two weeks she sick, all through the hacking, chills and tightness in her chest. He’d even forced her to sleep on the floor, complaining that her constant coughing shook the bed and interrupted his sleep. Finally, he’d given her something and her symptoms began to subside.

The only good thing about those two weeks had been no sex.

As she lay on the floor quivering, Paula realized why she must be so sick.

Her vitamins.

She’d stopped taking them a few days earlier. And now this. She started to sob. Why did she think she could go against Phillip? He knew what was best for her; he knew what she needed. She never should have stopped taking them.

She would resume taking them tomorrow. She’d never tell him what she’d done.

Except how was she going to get through this now?

If Phillip came home and saw that she hadn’t cleaned the house and there was no dinner… Paula whimpered, trying to decide what was worse; vomiting until her throat was raw or facing Phillip’s wrath.

The thought was enough to motivate Paula to flatten her palm against the floor and struggle to get upright. Paula groaned, as she felt the surge again. She stuck her head in the toilet just in time.

P
hillip had paced outside the hospital, as excited as a ten-year old hopped up on twenty candy bars. Today was the day. They would be starting their new life together.

House hunting had been fun. He’d spent hours hunched over a map of the U.S., trying to decide the best place for them to settle down. He’d never really liked Chicago. Too cold, too urban. Too many distractions. He wasn’t interested in Detroit. Too dirty. Too depressed. He had no interest in going back. He’d finally settled on St. Louis, attracted to the hybrid of city and suburban sensibilities. Money wasn’t an issue. Between the sale of his and Tracy’s house, her various assets and life insurance policy, not to mention he’d made a good living as a pharmacist—they would be comfortable.

The little house on Red Rose Lane had been perfect. It was a quiet neighborhood full of young families. Families who would be far too busy shuttling their brood to swim practice and horseback riding lessons to worry about what he and Paula were doing. The Pavilion had sealed the deal—he didn’t want her driving, thus having too much freedom. On the other hand, he wasn’t about to spend his time carting her all over town on errands. He’d paid cash for the house that day, not wanting to waste anymore time. He would have to move quickly on everything else—new IDs, social security numbers; a whole new life.

Getting to this point hadn’t been easy. Not that he had expected it to be. First, he had to get through the funeral. And then his in-laws—always offering to stay and help or have him come out to California. The endless phone calls from her friends, co-workers, neighbors. It was excruciating, because timing was everything and he had been anxious to get going.

After a few weeks, he’d started dropping hints to people that his mother wasn’t well. After about a month and a half, he let people know his mother had taken a turn for the worse and he would have to take care of her and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. That’s when he’d gone house hunting. After another month or so had passed, he returned to Chicago to break the news that he would have to move back to Detroit to take care of his mother full-time. People nodded, seeming to understand, wondering how much grief one man could be expected to bear in such a short amount of time.

And now, here they were.

He’d been connecting the dots for her, and he would continue to do so. It would be much easier now that they would be together all the time. He relished having her all to himself. No meddling friends, no job—no nothing. Just them, together.

Forever.

Keegan slammed the back door open and motioned for Phillip to follow him to his office. As usual, the two men stormed down the hallway without a word. Keegan opened the door and Phillip glided in, bursting with glee.

“So, is she ready?”

“Yeah, Phillip, she’s ready. And so am I—ready to be fucking done with all of this.”

Phillip dropped down into a chair. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Keegan. I didn’t think you had it in you. I thought for sure you’d screw this up.”

“Yeah, well, an ax hanging over your head is a great motivator.” He paused and looked at Phillip. “But I guess you knew that, when you dragged me into this, didn’t you?”

Phillip shrugged. “All I did was call in a favor.”

Keegan snorted and pulled out her file. “As far as I’m concerned, you and I are even. Forget my name, forget my number, forget I exist.”

Philip chuckled. “I hope
you
return that favor.”

Keegan flipped on his shredder and fed the individual file pages into the machine’s eager teeth. “No problem.”

“Well, I’m ready, so let’s go get her. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.”

“I feel sorry for her. Being stuck with you, spending the rest of her life under your thumb.”

“She needs me. I can take care of her better than anybody.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Keegan shook his head and stood. “Let’s get this over with.”

The two men headed down the hall to the padded rooms. Keegan unlocked hers and as usual, she was sitting quietly on the bed, staring straight ahead. She jumped up when she saw Phillip and rushed into his arms.

“Oh, dear. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve missed you so much. When was the last time you were here?”

Phillip squeezed her a moment before pulling back to look at her. “Don’t worry about that now. I’ve got a surprise for you, Paula. We’re leaving today. We’re going to start our new life.”

Paula clamped her hands to her mouth, her shoulders hunched together with delight. “Really? Oh! I can’t wait.”

Phillip smiled. “Me neither.”

P
hillip opened the door to the house on Red Rose Lane and stepped inside. She waited awkwardly out on the front steps.

“This is where we’ll live?” she asked.

“Yes, Paula. This is our home. This is where you will spend your days. Come. Let me show you around.”

She tiptoed inside, soaking in her surroundings as Phillip took her on a tour of the house, explaining what each room was for. Everything was plain and white, just like the hospital. He could see the fear seizing her, as she thought about what this new place meant. She clutched the collar of her dress and Phillip walked over to her and took her hand.