Live and Let Die

by Bianca Sloane

  EIGHTY-SEVEN

  “I forgot you were a swimmer,” he said.

  Tracy tried to make her legs go, to run from him again, but they wouldn’t, and she couldn’t. She scoured her brain for something, anything. All she could do was stare at him, her body teeming with fear and limp with exhaustion. He was holding the gun with both hands and had aimed it right for her heart.

  He crouched down over her and gave her a sad smile. “I love you so much,” he said. “I’d do it again, you know,” he whispered as he looked down at Tracy, his eyes shimmering with tears. “If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. These past two years with you has been magical.”

  “What are you going to do with my body?”

  “Tracy, didn’t you hear me? This time we’ve had together has been wonderful.”

  “Wonderful for you. I didn’t know who I was.”

  “I did it for us. It was all for us.”

  “It was for you, Phillip.”

  “No.”

  “You killed and lied and drugged and God only knows what else.”

  “Tracy, why can’t you understand?”

  “I’ll never understand. Never.” She paused. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you going to do with my body?”

  He twisted around. “I guess I’ll roll it into the river.”

  “What are you going to weigh it down with?”

  Phillip looked around as if he hadn’t thought of this. “I guess I’ll figure that out later.”

  “What about you? You said you couldn’t live without me. How are you going to kill yourself?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t thought about that either. I only have one bullet. For you.” He sighed. “Maybe I’ll jump in after you to weigh you down. Then we’ll be together forever. Like it always should have been.”

  The shore was flooded with lights and Phillip clamped his hand over his eyes to shield them.

  “Put your hands up, Phillip. We’ve got you surrounded.”

  Tracy tilted her head back and, sure enough, saw a swarm of troopers, lights and bullhorns. There must have been an army of guns pointed at Phillip. She closed her eyes in silent, thankful prayer, wondering how they’d found her.

  Phillip tapped the hard, cold metal against her chest and Tracy found herself flinching, terrified the gun would accidentally discharge.

  “Back off!” he yelled. “This is between me and my wife.”

  “Phillip, drop the gun, stand up and put your hands in the air.”

  Phillip pressed the gun closer into her chest until the end of it fell neatly into the groove of her collarbone.

  “I’m a better shot than you are, son. I guarantee you won’t make it out of this alive unless you drop the gun right now.”

  Phillip’s gaze fluttered down to Tracy and he looked deep into her eyes. “You have no idea how much I hurt,” he said, his voice cracking. “I have to stop it now.”

  “Phillip, please—”

  “I just wanted you to love me again,” he sobbed. In one swift motion, he shoved the barrel of the gun into his mouth.

  “Phillip, oh, God, Phillip—!”

  Phillip yanked the trigger and his head exploded like fireworks on the 4th of July. Tracy choked as he fell forward, blood spattering and running in rivulets down her chest, bits of brain and skull flying backwards and raining down on the tops of her feet and legs like confetti. His body slumped on top of her, pinning her to the ground. She tried to push him off, to run, far, far away. He was too heavy and all she could do was screech in hysterics for someone to help her as she tried in vain to shove away his dead weight. The troopers rushed in and lifted him while simultaneously pulling her from beneath the wreckage that used to be her husband. Someone rushed to throw a blanket around her shoulders, but Tracy barely noticed.

  EIGHTY-EIGHTY

  She was underneath the water, thrusting her arms in front of her like Ginsu knives as she drove forward. She felt her lungs filling up with water and she struggled to get to the surface before it was too late, before the water filled her up and suffocated her. She popped up and screamed when she saw Phillip flapping around in the water right in front of her, his hand digging into the flesh of her arm. She flailed and tried to push away from him, but he was too strong. He raised his other hand out of the water and she saw the gleam of a small gun in the moonlight. He smiled at her calmly before he pumped a single piece of lead into his brain…

  Tracy jumped up screaming, trying to rip out the IVs that were attached to her veins. Sondra, who had been dozing in the lone chair in the room, flew to Tracy’s bed and punched the on-call button as she tried to calm her sister down.

  “Tracy, Tracy, it’s okay, he’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

  Tracy stopped screaming and gripped Sondra’s forearms and looked at her, still hyperventilating. “Oh, God. Is this ever going to stop?”

  The doctor came busting in. “Ms. Ellis,” he said as he eased Tracy back down onto the bed. “Please, calm down. You need your rest. We need to continue detoxing you; your foot is still infected from that cut you took on the bottom of the Mississippi. Please, settle down.” He pulled the pink blanket up to her chest and made a notation on her chart. Sondra stood by the doorway fidgeting before she stalked out into the hallway, waiting for the doctor.

  “Can’t you give her something for the nightmares? She’s not sleeping, barely eating.”

  “Ms. Ellis, your sister has suffered a series of horrible traumas. It will take some time for her to get over that. Now, we gave you the names of some doctors in Chicago for her to see when she gets back there. I highly, highly recommend she make an appointment with one as soon as you get back to town.”

  Sondra took a deep breath, still frustrated. “Fine, fine. We will.”

  The doctor looked at her for a moment before giving her a slight nod. “Alright. I’ll be by to check on her in a bit.”

  The doctor went bustling down the hall and Sondra stayed outside the door for a moment before she went back in the room.

  Tracy was sitting up, staring blankly at the wall opposite the bed.

  “Hey, baby girl—you feeling better?”

  Tracy turned a sullen gaze at her sister. “I want to jump out of my skin. I can’t take this anymore.”

  Sondra sat on the edge of the bed. “I know, I know. It will get better, I promise. We’ll be leaving in a few days, getting you home—you sure you don’t want to stay with me in New York? I’ve got plenty of room.”

  Tracy leaned her head back against the pillows. “No, no, I just want to get home.” She let out a wry chuckle. “Even if it’s not my home.”

  “Look, mommy is getting that apartment ready for you right now, and as soon as you’re back on your feet, you’ll get another house or whatever you want. Besides, would you want to live there, I mean, since you lived there together?”

  Tracy sighed and propped her head back up. “I guess you have a point.”

  “You still want to drive back? We can fly. It’d be a lot quicker.”

  “I can’t deal with being in a confined space right now.”

  Sondra nodded. “Okay. It’s okay. I got us a convertible. Pretty cool, huh? The Ellis sisters on the open road, the wind whipping through their hair?”

  “You mean your rat’s nest?” Tracy deadpanned.

  Sondra looked at her sister for a moment before she burst out laughing. Tracy dissolved into giggles too, each moment getting funnier and funnier.

  “Sondra?” Tracy said, her face serious.

  Sondra stopped laughing. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. For finding me. For coming to get me.”

  Sondra’s eyes misted over as she tried to keep the tears from escaping. “I just had to know what happened to my baby sister.”

  “I had dreams about you. About everyone really. And it just scared the shit out of me because I knew who everyone was but I just couldn’t make any sense out of it… ”

  “It’s okay. Yo
u’re safe and you’re going to move on from this.”

  “I hope so.”

  Just then, the door opened and Cindy Cross made a little knocking motion on it as she peered into the room. “Hi. Are you up for visitors?”

  Tracy smiled. “Yeah, gosh, come in, come in.”

  Sondra stood and fished her electronic cigarette and cell phone out of her purse. “I swear, between this thing, the patch and the gum, I should be able to quit any day now.” Sondra twirled the fake cigarette and shifted her weight. “Besides, I promised Gary I’d call him before he heads back to New York.”

  “Tell Gary thanks again for coming,” Tracy said. “And that he better come to Chicago for a visit.”

  Sondra winked. “No prob. See you in a bit.”

  Cindy waited until Sondra had left before she sat down on the chair. “So, how are you?”

  Tracy ran her fingers through her hair, which hung long and loose across her shoulders. “Ready to get the hell out of here. Haven’t reached the point where I can close my eyes and not see his head blowing up in front of me.”

  Cindy shook her head. “What a monster.”

  Tracy shrugged again. “Yeah, well, I’m the idiot who married him.”

  Cindy was silent for a moment. “I wanted to say how sorry I am… that I didn’t do something—”

  Tracy broke in. “What could you do? I was doped up and brainwashed. You had no idea. I didn’t have any idea.”

  Cindy looked down at the pink bedspread. “I knew something wasn’t right, though. I thought he was beating you.”

  “Well, I did get the belt sometimes,” Tracy said, fingering the Tiffany necklace now around her neck. “So, yeah, I guess he was.”

  “Oh. God. How awful.”

  Tracy closed her eyes and shook her head. “If I did something, like forget the Sweet ‘N Low or not make the bed the way he wanted, out came the belt.”

  Cindy leaned back in her chair, disturbed. “Well, that explains you flipping out that day,” she mused.

  Tracy started laughing. “Oh, my God,” she gasped, unable to keep the giggles away. “You must have been so freaked out by that.”

  Cindy gave her a knowing look. “Yeah, I was sure you were a nut job after that.”

  “Hmmm. Well, he did have me locked up in a mental hospital for a few months.”

  “I read about that. The medical board wants to strip that doctor of his license to practice.”

  Tracy shrugged. “I don’t blame him. Much. Phillip was blackmailing him. He didn’t know what was going on. Not really.”

  “So, when are you leaving?” Cindy asked.

  “Sondra and I are driving back to Chicago in a few days. My parents are going to stay with me for a while. And at some point, I’m going to try and get my job back.”

  “Your sister said you were in the news business? That’s pretty cool.”

  Tracy smiled as she thought about it. “Yeah. It was. I miss it. I used to dream about it, although I didn’t know at the time that’s what it was.”

  Cindy started to speak, but then stopped herself.

  “What?” Tracy asked.

  “I… well, I was wondering if you would ever come back to St. Louis.”

  Tracy ran her tongue across her teeth. “Yeah, I don’t think so. But I’d love it if you came up to Chi to visit.”

  Cindy shook her head and smiled. “You don’t even sound the same. Like the way you talk. It’s like you were two different people.”

  Tracy inhaled. “I was.”

  “Wild. Well, I’d love to come for a visit. Just let me know when.”

  “Whenever.”

  The door creaked open and Sondra poked her head into the room. “Hello, ladies,” she said as she walked in. “Gary sends his love. And he said when he comes to visit he’ll bring a bottle of club soda.”

  Tracy raised her eyebrows. “Not the usual Dewars?”

  “Ah, you remember. That’s a good sign.” Sondra sat down on the edge of the bed. “We’ve kind of made a deal. If he’ll try sobriety and I give up the nicotine monkey, we’re going to try and make a go of it again.”

  Tracy gave her sister a reassuring smile. “I’m glad to hear that. You guys belong together.”

  “Yeah. Maybe this time it will work.”

  Sondra was quiet for a moment. “Jack… ” Sondra’s voice trailed off and Tracy nodded her understanding.

  “I know. One thing at a time.” Tracy sighed. “God. Carol. That’s what I regret the most.”

  It was Sondra’s turn to look out the window. “Don’t worry. Carol will get her justice.”

  EIGHTY-NINE

  He folded up the newspaper and let out a low whistle. It was quite a story. If he hadn’t been personally involved, he would have never believed it.

  Phil’s plan hadn’t been so foolproof after all.

  He’d been mildly surprised that day he walked into the pharmacy to pick up that prescription for Carol and Phillip Pearson handed it to him. The two had gone to college together at UIC, had known some of the same people and had hung out together casually. They met for beer and a game of darts to catch up and after many bottles, unloaded on each other over their respective problems. When both men compared pictures, they were shocked at the resemblance of the two women—literally and figuratively.

  Phillip was convinced Tracy was cheating on him and was consumed by that fear; Kevin had fallen out of love with Carol long ago, his ardor having cooled to a mild affection. She was nice… sweet, but she just didn’t do it for him anymore. Except, a surprise pregnancy had changed his plans to end the relationship. Both families swarmed around them with good cheer and guilt trips—the good Lord didn’t look too kindly upon children born out of wedlock. They turned up the pressure to full boil and Kevin found himself knee-deep in wedding preparations to a woman he didn’t want to be with. Carol miscarried shortly before the wedding and he thought that would help ease him out of the situation. Unbelievably, that only intensified her insistence they needed each other more than ever to get through such a difficult time.

  To make matters worse, Carol’s rich doctor daddy, who she never knew, died and left her half a million dollars. Kevin thought she would at least use the money to pay off their debts, put it to some use. Carol said she wanted nothing at all to do with that man and once the estate was settled, was going to give all that money to the church. Here they were, swimming in debt from credit cards and student loans when a lifeline was dropped in their lap and she wanted to throw it all away. It just burned Kevin beyond all reason. He had half-joked with Phillip that if she were dead, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with the money.

  He was shocked when, not a month or so later, Phillip called him and asked if he really wanted Carol gone, because if he did, he had a plan that would give them both what they wanted. Tracy had amnesia, he was going to get her out of town, but he couldn’t have her missing; then the plan wouldn’t work. What if he killed Carol and passed her off as Tracy? They looked enough alike that in death, you wouldn’t really be able to tell the difference and they both knew missing black women didn’t get much media attention. Kevin would get Carol’s money, Phillip would have Tracy all to himself—they both came out winners.

  Kevin had tossed and turned for two nights, wrestling with what to do. Carol questioned him about what was wrong, but he brushed it off as work troubles. He remembered staring at her over a bowl of oatmeal that last morning, thinking about how he’d never be free. She’d never give him a divorce; she considered it a sin. She’d make him stay shackled to her for life.

  He just couldn’t do it.

  He called Phillip from a payphone later than morning and said to do it.

  Phillip gave Tracy’s phone to Kevin and told him to be in the area of their house on the North Side at certain times over the weekend, so when the police checked the phone records—and they would—her cell phone signal would ping off the right towers. Phillip warned him to only answer the phone for him; Tracy had
people calling her all the time. They couldn’t risk him accidentally talking to someone he shouldn’t and blowing the whole thing to hell. Phillip took the phone back from him Sunday night and slipped it into Tracy’s purse, so no one would ever be the wiser.

  For his part, Kevin told Phillip he would make sure Carol was the one to take the dog out that night and that he was on the phone with his brother; Phillip had to be there at that time. Kevin didn’t want to know how it was done, he just wanted it done.

  Sure enough, Carol was misidentified as Tracy, Kevin got the money and played out the charade of grieving husband for the prying eyes around him.

  It had worked like a charm.

  Phillip’s big mistake—among many—had been that letter. His smugness convinced him to get in touch with Mimi Ellis. Almost like he couldn’t resist shoving her face in the fact that her daughter was alive and well while they all grieved. He had a mailbox store in Michigan forward his mail, so in case anyone ever came looking for him, that’s what they would find.

  But then, Sondra started putting everything together. And then the media got involved and that just blew everything to hell. He tried to call Phillip and warn him to get out of dodge before the cops caught up to him. He’d tried calling him on his cell phone using a disposable cell phone, but no luck getting a hold of the guy.

  Kevin shrugged now. Oh, well. It was done. The guy had blown his brains out, Tracy was reunited with her family and all was well that ended well.

  What Kevin didn’t know was that the night he called Phillip, Sondra Ellis had seen that Chicago phone number on the caller ID.

  What Kevin didn’t know was that Sondra Ellis had called Detective Marion Wallace to say she thought it was a little strange that Phillip was getting calls from Chicago; a place he hadn’t lived in three years and had virtually no ties to, so she should probably check it out.