by Lois Lavrisa
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll make sure I tell everyone to wait a while before using the locker room.” He grinned as he flexed a bicep. “I guess I can do a few more sets.”
With that, he was gone. I knocked on the door.
Cat poked her head out. “The coast is clear. Come in.”
Entering the locker room, I said, “I don’t like this at all. I had to fib to some poor kid.”
“Did he buy it?” Cat asked.
“Yes, I mean, I guess he did. He wanted to come in, but I made some lame excuse about exterminating bugs,” I said.
Cat high-fived me. “Good job, Bezu. You’re a natural for this line of work.”
I rolled my eyes. “Um, no. This whatever you call it—line of work—for me is never going to happen again.”
“Fine.” Cat pointed to a locker. “Listen. I think this is Frank’s; it has Frank K. on it.”
“Yes. His last name is Kincaid. This might be it.”
Cat rattled the handle. “I’m having trouble opening it.”
I grabbed the lock. It was a simple little key lock, not too heavy-duty, and rather easy to break into. “Do you have a nail file?”
Cat snickered. “This isn’t the time to give yourself a manicure.”
I giggled. “For the lock. I think I can jam the sharp end in the hole and twist and jiggle it enough to make it open.”
“See? Here you have all this raw talent—lying, breaking and entering—yet you want to give up detective work. I just don’t get it.” Cat grinned.
“So I can go back to my normal life of harboring illegal tenants and desperately duct taping my maturing house together.”
“Yeah, I see your dilemma.”
Cat produced a metal nail file from her purse. I wiggled it into the lock hole. After a few twists, the lock clicked open. “Voilà.”
“Amazing. Now let’s hurry up and get the bag.” Cat opened the steel locker door.
“There, on the floor,” I indicated.
Cat tugged the duffle bag out. Then she placed it on top of a nearby bench and unzipped it. “Whew. I think he needs to do laundry.”
The stench of unwashed clothes permeated the air. “It smells bad enough to gag a maggot.”
“You got that right.” Cat pulled out a few pieces of clothing. Then she produced a clear, plastic Ziploc bag. Inside was a needle wrapped in a paper towel. The same pattern of paper towels I used in my kitchen.
“Oh my, do you think we found our clue?” My heart raced.
“I bet if we take this down to the station, have them dust for fingerprints, then have the lab examine the residue inside the needle, it will all point to our killer.”
“This is too good to be true. Let’s get out of here.” As soon as I said that, Cat began to walk backward. “What’s going on?”
“Behind you.” Cat’s voice shook. She stuck her hand holding the Ziploc bag behind her back.
I spun on my heels and saw Frank glaring at me. He held an open switchblade in his hand.
“I see you’ve gotten into my locker.” He grabbed my shoulders.
“Who, us?” Cat said.
“We meant no harm. Actually we were just leaving,” I said, feeling his strong grip dig into my shoulder.
Frank blurted as he released me, “You two aren’t going anywhere.”
“Well, you see, we have to do something, I mean, someone is looking for us, I, uh, mean, the police are on the way. You have to let us go.” Cat aimed a finger at Frank.
Frank reached in his locker. He pulled out two jump ropes. He fastened the jump ropes together forming one long rope. “Here is how this is going to go down. Miss Bezu, you are going to tie this around her neck. I’m going to fling the rope over that beam.”
Frank looked up at the ceiling at the exposed metal pipes. “Then I am going to wrap the other end around your neck. You’re both going to stand on this bench.”
“I hate anything around my neck. Can you just tie my hands instead? Or even better yet, just let us go.” Cat crossed her heart. “We promise that we will not tell anyone anything. Lips sealed.”
Frank let out a low, guttural chuckle. “Fat chance.” He waved the switchblade in front of us.
“I’m curious. Why do you want us to stand on the bench? Can’t you just tie us up and have us sit down on it?” My voice trembled. I was trying to reason with a madman.
“I know, you won’t say anything.” Frank snickered.
“Yes. That’s true.” I stood next to Cat, our backs against a wall. The only exit was behind Frank.
“I think you underestimate me. You are not going to talk, because both of you will be hung after I kick the bench out.” Frank stepped closer to us.
“Well, I do declare. That is such an ungentlemanly thing to do. What would Lily say about your behavior?” I tried to plan our escape but could not.
“She’ll never find out. Because you are going to write a double suicide note first,” Frank said.
“Why on earth would we go to a gym and kill ourselves? That is highly unlikely,” I said.
Cat added, “What’s more improbable is that we would even harm ourselves at all.”
“That’s very true, and it would be suspicious if we did,” I said.
“Yes, that’s right.” Cat agreed. “I don’t think that you’ve thought this through. Just like you didn’t think through Mr. Phong’s murder very well.”
I whispered in Cat’s ear. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get a confession out of him,” Cat said.
“Hey, you two, no more of that. I can snap or slit your necks right now and be done with you both,” Frank said.
I rubbed my neck. Why did I think of my missing pearl necklace more than my neck bone being broken? “Oh, no need for that.”
“And also no need for hanging us, either. Really, if you think about this, it is just a big misunderstanding,” Cat said. “Easily cleared up, with no one harmed. You go on your way, we go on ours. And no one is worse for wear.”
A corner of Frank’s mouth lifted, as though Cat amused him.
Seeing a chance to delay our demise, I added, “Yes, Frank. We know that you were just so tired. Lack of sleep can make people so cantankerous, I understand that. And Mr. Phong sang incessantly. It almost drove me mad, too.” Another lie. Oh, how I missed his voice. “And you were trying to get ready for that bodybuilding contest…well, it just came together. You had no choice. It was too much.” I pretended to see his warped point of view.
“If he would have just shut his trap.” Frank slammed a fist into a locker. The sound of the bang reverberated in the room.
“That had to hurt,” Cat said under her breath.
Frank rubbed his hand. “He just irritated me to death. It made me crazy. Then one day, I saw all that creepy-crawly killer stuff you had under your sink, and the plate of muffins—which the stupid foreigner ate way too many of. Doesn’t he know that carbs will kill you?”
“When laced with poison,” Cat muttered to me.
“I just thought…I just wanted to shut him up. He made me so angry. I didn’t know it’d kill him. I mean, he’s bigger than an ant, and I didn’t put that much in. Damn it! How did everything go wrong?” Frank ran a hand through his short, thinning hair.
“I’m sure a jury will be on your side,” Cat said.
“You just tell them what you told us, and they would have mercy on you. You would be out in no time.” Even though, if I were a jury member for his trial, I’d give him life plus a hundred million years.
“Oh no.” Frank shook his head, all the while waving the knife at us. “I see what you two are trying to do. You’re trying to get me all mushy and soft so I’ll let you go. Lily is the only one who can play me like that. Not anyone else.” He put the knife in the bench, then snatched my arm with one hand and grabbed Cat’s arm with his other hand.
“You are getting a little rough here. Can you please, for heaven’s sake, lighten your grip?” I pleaded.<
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“Yes, you might bruise my arm,” Cat said.
“That should be the least of your worries, ladies.” Frank huffed as he threw us against the wall of lockers. “You two need to put your arms up in the air where I can see them. The first one who moves gets the rope around her neck.”
My eyes filled with tears as I looked at Cat. She put on a half smile, as though she were trying to reassure me.
“One muscle—one twitch—and I will kill you with my bare hands,” Frank said as he kept an eye on us but made his way to his locker. He began to dig inside his locker, every second making eye contact with us.
“So what are you looking for?” Cat asked.
“You moved,” Frank said.
“Only my lips. I thought you meant, like, move our body,” Cat replied.
“Damn it.” Frank slammed his locker.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I need something to write with. For your suicide note,” Frank said.
This was a long shot, but if I could convince him to let me go into my purse and grab paper and pen, maybe I could turn on my phone and hit José’s number. It was a stab in the dark, but I had to try. “I have some things in my purse you could use.”
Frank slit his eyes. “No funny business. Come over here in front of me and get them out. As for you…” He picked up the knife and stabbed it toward Cat. “Stay put.”
Cat whispered, “Seriously? You’re aiding him with our homicide?”
My back to Frank, I winked at Cat.
She cocked her head.
I lowered my arms. My legs were quivering so badly I feared I would tumble right over. Taking in a deep breath, I made my way to Frank. My heart pounded in my ears. “Let me just get them out. You know women’s purses are like bottomless pits.” I bided some time. My hand inside my purse, I felt for my phone. Once it was in my hand, I cracked the purse open more so that I could see the face, then pressed speed dial seven for José.
“What is taking so long?” Frank grabbed my purse, then spilled the contents out on the floor. My phone slid facedown under the bench. My heart almost stopped. Mr. Phong’s iPod turned on, playing “This is how I roll, come on, ladies, it’s time to go. We headed to the bar, baby, don’t be nervous. No shoes, no shirt, and I still get serviced. Girl, look at that body…”
“My favorite song. That idiot knew I liked it and would come by me and sing it.” Frank huffed. “Annoying little Oriental turd.”
Oh my goodness. Mr. Phong did leave me a clue to his killer with the song on his iPod. But now it was too late.
“By the way, it is not politically correct to use the term Oriental to describe a person. You could say Asian, but not Oriental,” Cat said.
“Shut up! Get back against the wall, hands over your head,” Frank ordered with the knife blade against my neck. He pulled out my small notepad and a blue ink pen.
“Now you, get over here,” he directed Cat.
Cat slumped as she walked slowly toward him.
I had to say something loud enough so my phone could pick it up and José could hear. I was hoping that he could trace the phone and find us. “Frank, aren’t you worried that someone will walk into the locker room? I mean, Atlas Gym has a lot of clients.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? I locked the door.” Frank huffed. He turned to Cat. “Take this pen and paper and write exactly what I tell you. Word for word.” Frank bit his lip.
“My penmanship is not so great.” Cat stood next to him.
“’Stop stalling! Write!” Frank held the knife to Cat’s neck. “We are sorry, but we could no longer live with the fact that we killed Mr. Phong,” Frank recited.
“But your fingerprints are all over the needle.” Cat glared at Frank as she shook the plastic bag.
“Problem solved.” Frank snatched the plastic bag from Cat. Then he ordered Cat, “Hold this needle.”
“It’s not sterile,” Cat objected.
“Do you want your neck snapped now?” Frank said. “Or slit?”
Cat held the syringe in her hand; a tear rolled down her face.
Frank said, “Miss Bezu, your turn. Give it to her.”
My trembling hand touched the outer case.
“Now put it in this bag.” Frank held open the Ziploc.
I did as ordered, my mind racing. How could we get away from him?
“This is ironic. I left this very needle on your kitchen counter hoping to get your fingerprints on it, and it didn’t work. Lily took it away. But now it is all coming together nicely, like it was meant to be,” Frank said.
“Lucky you.” Cat’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Next line: ‘We could no longer live, knowing what we did. We hope that you do not grieve for us,’” Frank said.
“Wait,” Cat interrupted. “If I really were to end my life, which, by the way, I would absolutely not, I would want them to grieve for me some, but not for too long. My family would know that.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone to mourn for me. Instead, I would love it if they celebrated my life. Tell stories, laugh, and sip sweet tea under the oak tree,” I said, trying my best to delay our ultimate death.
“Enough!” Frank shouted. “Now you both sign the letter and then give it to me.”
“Should I write, ‘sincerely, Cat’? That doesn’t seem to fit in a suicide note. Neither does ‘see you later,’” Cat said.
I could tell Cat was stalling, too. I continued to draw this out. “Good point. I don’t know what the etiquette is for closing a suicide letter.”
“This is a difficult situation here,” Cat added. “You want it to sound real.”
“Yes, things like ‘yours truly’ seem too light. On the other hand, ‘best wishes’ or ‘kind regards’ or ‘respectfully yours’ are options, too. Although none of them seem to fit here, either. You have put us in a tough spot, Frank,” I said. My head felt light. I knew my nerves were getting the best of me. Where was José? What could we do to save ourselves? I went through some defense moves in my head. Maybe I could try one on Frank if I got close enough to him.
Frank stomped his foot on the ground. “Stop it! Write ‘bye,’ then your name. Now!”
Cat and I locked eyes. We had deferred our end as long as we could. We signed our names, and then Frank took the note and set it on the bench.
“All right, you get up here.” Frank motioned to Cat.
Tears streamed down her face. She got up on the bench. I could see her legs shaking. Frank secured one end of the jump rope around her neck. Then he flung the loose end over a steel beam in the ceiling, catching it on the other side. He tugged a few times. “This will hold. Now you.” Frank pointed at me.
With wobbly legs, I climbed onto the bench. Frank tied the rope around my neck. I felt the rough, twisted rope dig into my skin. It was difficult to swallow. I heard Cat gag. All that was left was for him to kick the bench away, and Cat and I were lynched.
Chapter Sixteen
Frank checked the knot around my and Cat’s necks.
I had to stall. I asked him, “Can we please just have one moment together before you hang us?”
“Please, we are best friends and need to pray.” Cat sobbed.
My eyes welled up.
“God, I hate this girly emotional stuff. Fine, you can have one minute. Say your good-byes or prayers or whatever. Then that is it. Any monkey business and I do this.” Frank pantomimed taking the knife and cutting our throats. He wandered a few feet away from us.
“Cat, I’m so sorry. About everything.” My voice came out faint. We stood a foot from each other. I reached up to the rope on my neck—it was taut. If I tried to loosen mine, it would tighten the end around Cat’s neck. “I can’t even loosen this without it hurting you. I’m so sorry.”
Between sniffles, Cat whispered, “It’s not your fault. But I have to tell you we are not, and I repeat, not dying here.”
“Um, we have nooses around our necks. He has a switchblade. How are you think
ing we are going to get out of here?” A tear streaked down my cheek. “Cat I really tried to save us, I did. When I got the pen and paper from my purse, I hit José’s number on my phone.”
“Smart girl.” Cat coughed. “ But right now this very minute, we need to save ourselves.”
“How?” My voice quivered.
“Listen to me, when he comes over here to kick out the bench, I want you to put your hand inside the rope next to your neck,” Cat said. “To protect your throat in case this plan does not go well.”
“When you say not well, you mean, becomes a tragedy?”
“Yes. But if it goes right, we escape.” Cat’s eyes were wide and moist. Her voice shook. “When he comes near, I will grab his knife. As soon as I do, we both kick up a leg and thrust it at his head, knocking him to the ground. I take the knife and cut us loose. Then we run like heck,” Cat said. “Don’t look back.”
“But what if this doesn’t work? Then what?” My stomach took a free fall.
Cat’s voice lowered even more. “You have to be one hundred percent in this and believe with your whole heart and mind that we can do this.”
I bit my bottom lip as I held back a tear. “Yes. I love you, Cat. And whatever happens, I consider myself to be so very blessed that I had you in my life.”
“Back at you.” Cat smiled as a tear ran down her cheek.
“Time’s up,” Frank shouted as he approached us. He held the knife in his hand.
“Can you come here a second?” Cat tugged at the rope around her neck. Perspiration soaked her forehead.
“Why?” Frank asked.
I had to come up with something. “We would like you to do a final prayer with us.”
“Huh! You two are stalling,” Frank said.
“No. We are not,” I said.
“Yes, you are!” Frank stepped toward us, wielding his knife.
As he got within inches of us, Cat swiped the knife from his grip. As Frank lunged forward to retrieve his weapon, we both kicked him in the head. He reeled back onto the ground with a thud. For a moment, he didn’t move.
Using the knife, Cat began to saw the rope around my neck. a moment later, I was free, causing the rope to loosen. I untied the knot around Cat’s neck. Perspiration soaked my dress.
