“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.
SIXTY-TWO
Paula 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.
SIXTY-THREE
Phillip 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 wh
ole 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.”
SIXTY-FOUR
Phillip 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.
“Paula,” he said as he slipped a thin gold band on her ring finger. “We’re married now. And that means you will do everything I say.”
“But what if I can’t do it?”
“Paula, I don’t understand. You were so happy earlier when I told you about our new home. What’s wrong?”
Paula rubbed her forehead and looked around. “I don’t know if I can do it. What if I can’t be a good wife to you, like Tracy—?”
Phillip walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Shhh, shhh. You will, Paula. You will. I know in time you’ll prove that you’re worthy of my love. That everything we both did was worth it.”
She chewed the bottom of her lip and looked around at the sparsely furnished house. “I just don’t want to disappoint you. Especially because of everything you’ve done for me.”
Phillip rubbed both her shoulders now. “Just do what we talked about, and you’ll be fine. It is very important, Paula, that you do everything I’ve told you. You take care of me and our home, and you don’t tell anyone about your past. We don’t want to tip anyone off about you. Then I’ll never be able to help you.”
Paula nodded. “Okay,” she whispered.
He cocked his head to the side. “Paula… ”
She smoothed back her hair with one hand, fiddling for a moment with the severe bun at the nape of her neck. “What I meant to say was, yes, dear.”
Phillip smiled. “There. That’s better. Now. I’m very tired after the long drive. It’s time for you to make dinner. I took the liberty of having the realtor pick up groceries. The recipe cards are in the kitchen.” He took off his jacket and settled into the beige recliner in the living room. “You’d better get started.”
She swallowed and clasped her hands together. “Yes, dear,” she said before she scurried to the kitchen.
SIXTY-FIVE
When Sondra finally turned her phone back on, Kevin had left her three frantic messages, two begging her to tell him where she was going and a third saying he was contacting the police. Sondra briefly considered calling him, but decided to take her chances and wing it to St. Louis. She called Cicely in the cab on her way to the airport to tell her what was going on. Cicely tried to talk her out of it, telling her to let the police handle it. Sondra pretended like the call was dropped and hung up. She wouldn’t let it go. She couldn’t.
Her flight was delayed while they waited for a vicious summer storm to pass. Sondra’s colossal lust for a cigarette almost drove her to light up in the bathroom. It wasn’t worth it, of course, so instead, she chewed on the ice from the countless cups of ginger ale she’d sucked down while they waited. Drumming her fingers against the armrest, Sondra hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer before they could leave. The shivers were back and Sondra knew if she didn’t get to Phillip now, she might not ever find out what happened to Tracy.
SIXTY-SIX
The nausea passed and Paula felt well enough to begin washing the windows inside and out. Except her head was pounding and she had to stop several times. Everything felt wobbly, slippery. But she would fix that. She just had to get through today and she would start taking her vitamins again tomorrow.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered to herself as she soaped up one window, the creamy white streaks soothing her. “Phillip knows best. I’ll never go against him again.”
Paula ventured a smile to herself before a stab of pain seared across her temples and she dropped her jumbo yellow sponge on the floor.
“Oh my God,” she said as she doubled over, clutching the corner of the counter. It came again and this time she fell to the floor, the sting too great.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. She looked up and her kitchen became a blob of white. She held her hand to her head. Another wave of nausea rose up and she barely had time to stand up before the vomit came flying out of her mouth and sprayed the side of the sink.
She stood over the sink, heaving and crying. This was too much for her to handle on her own. She needed Phillip. It was earl
y afternoon. He wouldn’t be home for hours.
She couldn’t wait that long. She’d have to call him, beg him for help.
Except she didn’t know how to use a phone. Phillip had never taught her how. And besides, he kept it locked up in his office. She didn’t even know where he worked. She grunted and tried to drag herself to the bathroom when there was another jab to the inside of her head. She keeled over and rolled onto her back, trembling. She stayed there, staring at the ceiling and fighting to catch her breath.
She stayed there a few more moments, coming back to her senses. She couldn’t let Phillip know what was going on.
SIXTY-SEVEN
It had been bliss.
Coming home to her every day. To a hot meal. To her grateful love and devotion. He often had to pinch himself over how lucky he was.
And smart.
He was so happy. She was so obedient, doing everything he told her without question, without rebellion. He was finally in total control. It was empowering. Energizing.
Live and Let Die Page 17
