Stalking the Phoenix

by Karen Woods

  “How well you know him,” Will said with a laugh. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “Will, please . . . I would prefer it if people would stop trying to fatten me up.”

  “You could use a few pounds. Especially now. It isn’t good for you to miss meals. Eat a good breakfast.”

  “The last few weeks have been rather trying.”

  Will nodded. “An understatement of British proportions.”

  “Very much so, I’m afraid.”

  Will patted my hand. “You just take today to relax. You need some time away from everything. I was glad to see you sleep in.”

  “Thanks, Will. You don’t know how much I need some down time.”

  Will nodded. “I think that I do. Now, eat some breakfast, lunch, brunch, whatever. Just get some good solid food inside you.” Then he looked at me in concern. “You aren’t one of those females who gets all woozy in the mornings, are you?” Will asked in a volume too low for Sister to overhear the words.

  “Relax, Will. I’m not likely to faint at your feet.”

  “That’s a relief. Now, eat your food,” he said as Sister placed before me a plate containing a thick ham and swiss on rye and a large handful of raw vegetables.

  I nodded and sighed. “Okay.”

  After eating, I walked across to the school-yard where Geoff was involved in a fast paced game with teenagers. He had his shirt off. Several of the high school girls were trying not to stare openly at him. I could sympathize with them. It was difficult not to look, and keep looking, at a form that nearly perfect.

  Several wolf whistles greeted my appearance on the playground.

  I laughed. “Good grief, guys. I’m probably your mothers’ age.”

  “Terrific, guys. You’ve worn out an old man. Have mercy,” Geoff said teasingly.

  “Yeah, right, man. You’ve wiped the court with us,” one of the boys said in respect. “I can hardly believe that you are Monsignor’s brother.”

  “Will shot a mean game of hoops when he was your age. In fact, he was All-State for the last three years of High School. And he was All American in college. If he hadn’t been called to the priesthood, he would have probably gone pro.”

  The teenagers absorbed that bit of information in silence. I could tell that the boys had never thought of Monsignor Will in that light before.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Geoff said to me.

  “Hello, yourself.”

  “So, you finally decided to rejoin the land of the living.”

  I laughed. “Sure did. Now, why don’t you go get cleaned up. I want to go shopping at Marshall Field’s.”

  “Trying to empty my wallet?” Geoff asked teasingly.

  “Trying to fill my closet.”

  Geoff nodded as he slid his arms back into his shirt.

  “Okay. Let me go get a shower.”

  “Take your time.”

  He laughed. “What you don’t think that I should go as I am?”

  “Not unless you are going as a fumigator.”

  Chapter 20

  DIARY, May 8

  I have Sister’s overnight case. It was incredibly easy to steal it from the airport. In fact, it was almost too easy. Soon, the next stage in my plan will begin.

  Very soon, she will continue to pay for the harm that she has done to me with her lies and her murderous actions. The law can’t touch her, but I can. I can. I’ve already proven that. Bye-bye car, bye-bye house. Soon, soon, she will have nothing left. Not her business . . . not her sanity . . . and not her life.

  The law can’t touch her. But, I can. I have. And I will.

  Soon, all my waiting will be over, but not before I make her suffer, not before I destroy everything that she loves, the way that she did to me.

  I can almost see her face as she opens the case. I only wish that I could actually be there to see her reaction. Still, I’ll hear it. That’s the next best thing.

  It will be a surprise to her, maybe but probably not a lethal one. That’s a calculated risk. I’m not done playing with her, yet. I haven’t yet given her back all the pain that she caused me. I would hate for the game to be over before I’ve had my satisfaction. I will have justice. I will make her pay. There’s really no one else who can extract the vengeance for her murderous acts.

  Then she will be helpless, at my mercy. She’ll beg. She’ll plead. But no one will listen to her. No one will want anything to do with her. Everyone will know her to be the lying murderess that she is.

  The religious school where she teaches will have no recourse except to terminate her contract. After all, they won’t be able to afford to keep a cold-blooded murderess on faculty. It would be bad for their image.

  It’s just a matter of time.

  Like the drop of water that erodes a stone as it drips, I will be wearing her down, cutting a groove into her, until finally she breaks in two.

  It’s just a matter of time. I have all the time in the world. Too bad that Sister doesn’t yet really realize that her time is limited. Not yet. But she will.

  The thought of making her sweat, really sweat, makes me happy. But not as happy as the thought of seeing her brought to justice.

  Chapter 21

  GEOFF

  I stood back watching Alicia shop. Heaven help anyone who stood in her way, I thought.

  In the hour that we had been in the store, she had selected four business suits, three daytime dresses, two dressy dresses, a half dozen blouses, and five pair of slacks which coordinated with the suit jackets.

  “Are you planning on buying out the store?”

  Alicia laughed. “Me? I thought that you were buying?”

  I laughed in return as I crossed the distance between us. “I think that it is good that I found out just how extravagant you can be before the wedding.”

  “Afraid that you can’t keep me in the style to which I have become accustomed?”

  “You could probably buy and sell me a dozen times over, woman.”

  “Not quite.”

  “Aren’t those a lot of things for a woman in your condition to be buying? You aren’t going to be in them for very long.”

  Alicia smiled at me. “I don’t intend to spend the rest of our marriage pregnant. And I won’t be letting myself go. I’ll be the same size after the baby comes.”

  “You are sure about that?”

  “If I have to starve myself after the baby is born, I’ll be back in a size eight. Trust me.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Girl?” she echoed disdainfully.

  “Oh, please, you aren’t going to go militant on me, just now, are you?”

  “Sweetheart, I haven’t been a girl for decades.”

  “You’re as young as you feel, darling.” Then I kissed her forehead.

  Alicia laughed. “I certainly hope not. On second thought, maybe that isn’t so bad. I’m in pretty good shape for a hundred and ten year old.”

  “Idiot.” But that was a term of affection.

  “I’ve got a few more things to pick up.”

  “You aren’t finished?”

  “Not hardly. I need shoes, a new spring coat, some lingerie . . .” She stopped as my eyes lit up.

  “Stop drooling,” she warned in a teasing voice.

  I laughed. Then I kissed her forehead, again. “Go shop.”

  “You know, I wouldn’t be this extravagant if my wardrobe hadn’t been lost in the explosion. I’m so sick of living in jeans, and sweats like I have been for the past weeks.”

  “I know, Apple Juice.”

  “And I am buying my own things. I was only teasing you about letting you pay.”

  “Sure, ‘Licia.”

  “Why are you being so agreeable, all of a sudden?”

  “Would you rather that I be disagreeable?”

  She smiled broadly. “Of course not.”

  “It’s good to see you enjoying yourself. I haven’t seen you smile, really smile, when we are alone, in what seems
like forever. A man could become addicted to your smiles and laughter.”

  “I’m sorry, Geoff.”

  “You’ve had a lot on your mind. Now, shop until you drop or your credit limit makes you stop.”

  “I’ve never pushed my Field’s card to the limit. I doubt that I’ll do so today. But, the thought is tempting. This is the only time in my life that I will be assembling a trousseau.”

  “Then by all means, don’t forget the lingerie. Make sure that it doesn’t have scratchy lace.”

  Alicia smiled, and laughed genuinely. Her laughter always sent a thrill up my spine.

  “Ah yes, but scratchy for which one of us?” she asked, mischief in her eyes.

  “You never let me get by with anything, do you?”

  “Never.”

  I looked at the rear of the borrowed station wagon. Alicia had filled it with packages.

  “How in the world are you going to get all of this home?”

  “Ever heard of UPS? I’ll take the crucial items with me. The rest, I’ll box up and have your brother send them downstate via UPS.”

  Alicia smiled as she leaned back against the seat.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Just how good it feels to be loved.”

  “I do love you, ‘Licia.”

  “I know . . . I’ve not been fair to you, lately, have I?”

  “Life hasn’t been fair, lately.”

  “We are going to have a good life together, aren’t we?” she asked with a shade of desperation in her voice.

  “Of course we are. We wouldn’t dare do otherwise.”

  Chapter 22

  ALICIA

  The rest of Saturday passed entirely too quickly.

  Geoff and I went out on the town Saturday evening. Dinner and dancing in Chicago were too much of a temptation for us. Especially so, since the only restaurant in Fieldsburg which offered dancing did so to the music of a Country band. We returned to the rectory at two a.m.

  Even after that late night, we were both awake and dressed in time for ten thirty mass on Sunday.

  Laughter filled the dining room at the rectory. Sunday lunch was simple: homemade bread, sliced cheeses and meats, assorted raw fresh vegetables with a feta cheese and walnut dip, and an array of fresh fruits.

  “You’ve got to let me have the recipe for that dip.”

  Sister smiled at me. “Of course, Alicia. I’ll write you with it.”

  Will glanced at his watch. “I hate to be a nag. But, you two are going to miss your flight unless we get moving.”

  “Flying out of O’Hare?” Brother Louis asked.

  “Meigs.”

  “I hate small airplanes. I never feel safe,” Brother remarked.

  I sighed. “But, then again, I’ve never found much about life which was safe.”

  Will looked pointedly at his watch. “Come on, people. It is past time for us to get going, if I am still driving you to the airport.”

  Geoff and I made a simple dinner working together in his kitchen, after we returned to Fieldsburg. We ate by the light of the fire blazing in the fireplace in the living room.

  When the grandfather’s clock rang off nine, I yawned.

  “Tired?”

  “A little.”

  “Then go to bed, ‘Licia. I’ll lock up before I come up.”

  “Geoff?”

  He smiled at me.

  “Thank you for the weekend.”

  “If I thought that you stood the remotest chance of being able to walk away from your teaching at the college, I would take you somewhere far away from all of the troubles here. But, you have to honor your commitments. The old-fashioned values which you have are one of the reasons that I love you so.”

  “Finals are in a bit less than two weeks. We will be married the day after I turn grades in, Geoff. I only hope that we get this situation resolved by then.”

  “Whatever comes, ‘Licia, my love, we will deal with it.”

  I kissed him lightly, nothing more than a brush of my lips against his.

  Geoff’s arms tightened around me as he kissed me in return. This caress started light, but rapidly became much more passionate. I was with him until his hands began to roam, then the fear hit me. I began to shake. I know that I stiffened.

  Pulling back from me slightly, he smiled a strained smile. “I’ve taken so many shortcuts in my life, ‘Licia. With you, I want to do things right. I’m not pushing you. It’s just so much of a temptation to . . .”

  “To try to seduce me.”

  Geoff smiled sheepishly. “Yes. But, you aren’t ready for that, are you?”

  “No, obviously I’m not. I’m sorry.”

  “I love you, ‘Licia.” He placed his hand on my still flat stomach. “And I love sprout there. He just seems so unreal to me, right now.”

  “As for sprout, it won’t be terribly long until she’ll seem real to you. Now, I’m going to bed. Sleep well.”

  Passing through the foyer, I saw someone peering into the house from the porch. I couldn’t make out the face because of the opaque etched glass, but there was definitely someone there. “Geoff?” I asked.

  Geoff was there in a flash. I nodded over to the door. The face was still there. Geoff wrapped his arm around my waist and urged me toward the stairs.

  “Easy, baby, I’ll come down the back stairs and go around from the kitchen,” Geoff whispered in my ear as he hustled me up the stairs. “Let’s get you out of harm’s way.”

  “You be careful,” I whispered in return.

  “Always.”

  Geoff left me in the upstairs hall.

  I heard the sound of breaking glass. I ran into my bedroom and found my gun. I picked up the telephone extension on my bed table and dialed 911.

  “This is Alicia Jenkins. We have a prowler at 133 Park. Assistance needed, immediately.”

  I made my way downstairs carefully. The antique etched glass was broken out of the front door. There was a substantial amount of blood on the floor.

  “Geoff!” I called out in fear. “Geoff!”

  But, Geoff did not answer.

  The police car pulled up, siren running. I placed the pistol on safety, then put it at the small of my back at the waistband of my jeans.

  Both uniformed men approached the house with guns drawn.

  I called out to them, “Come around to the kitchen door. There’s too much glass and blood here.”

  “Are you all right?” one of the officers, a young man named Sam Ulrich who had taken a couple of classes I had taught, asked in concern.

  “I am. But, I’m not so sure about Geoff.”

  I reached the kitchen at the same time that the officers arrived at the door.

  “What happened?” Sam Ulrich asked firmly.

  “I don’t really know. I saw someone outside, peering in the front door. Geoff took me upstairs, told me to stay safe, then he went down the back stairs to the kitchen door, and walked around the porch to confront whomever it was. The next thing that I heard was the breaking glass. That’s when I called.”

  Sam Ulrich nodded.

  A motorcycle drove into the driveway and parked at the back door. There were heavy footsteps on the back porch stairs. Phil Mallory walked in, pulling off his helmet.

  “Al? Are you okay?” he demanded as he came to stand before me.

  “Oh, Phil!” I cried brokenly as I buried my face in his chest. “There’s broken glass and blood in the foyer. There was someone there, looking in. Geoff must have chased him. I’m so scared.”

  Phil put his helmet down on the kitchen counter. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. “We’ll find him, Al. We’ll find him.”

  “Phil . . .” His name was a cry of pain on my lips.

  Phil stroked my hair. “Look, I know that you have been through hell lately. But, you have to pull yourself together. Come on, Al, show some of that famous Jenkins composure.”

  I sniffled. I pulled myself out of his arms. “Thanks, Phil,”
I said as I wiped moisture from my eyes.

  “Al, hang in here with us. Let’s take a look at the broken glass.”

  I led them back to the foyer. Then I went back into the living room and sat before the fire. I just stared into the dying flames.

  Phil looked at Sam Ulrich and Peter Hess. “Get the men out looking for Geoff Samson. And I want a photographer, and a man with an evidence kit here ten minutes ago.”

  “Al?” Phil asked from his position behind where I was sitting on the carpet just in front of the hearth. I hadn’t answered his earlier softer queries.

  “Go find him, Phil,” I responded without taking my eyes from the fire.

  “Al, look at me.”

  “No,” I denied with a sob. “Just go find him. Find him and bring him home. I don’t think that I want to go on without him.”

  I was aware of the men who came and went. After the photographer was done, a forensic sample of the blood was taken. No textile fibers could be found around the break in the glass. I was aware of all of this. But, I couldn’t pull myself together. Instead, I sat in front of the fire, not seeing, nearly lost in my misery and fear.

  Periodically, I heard the difficult-to-decipher squawk of a broadcast along the police band from one or more of the radios the uniformed officers wore on their belts.

  After the majority of activity was done, I rose from my place in front of the dying fire. “May I clean up the mess now?”

  “Sure, Al,” Phil answered. “Do you need a hand in fixing the window?”

  “None of the stores are open. That glass was antique. I don’t know how Geoff will want to fix this.”

  Phil nodded. “It could be boarded up until it can be fixed correctly.”

  I nodded tightly. “That sounds reasonable. I know that there is a piece of plywood in the garage. How do I get the bloodstain off of the hardwood floor, though?”

  Phil looked at me for a long moment. “Would you like for me to board up the window?”