Claudia Must Die

by Markinson, T. B.

Boyd didn’t know who the man was, but he instantly recognized Claudia in the backseat. “What in the fuck is going on?” he exclaimed.

  Otis stirred awake. “What’s wrong?” He followed Boyd’s gaze. “Oh fuck! There she is.”

  Otis reached into the backseat to grab his handgun, which was hidden under a pile of clothes. Before Boyd could stop him, he was aiming the gun at Parker. Then Otis noticed Claudia in the backseat, and exclaimed, “They’re twins!”

  Francis turned the key in the ignition and slammed on the gas pedal, cutting off a car, which swerved to miss him. The light on the corner of Commonwealth Avenue and Chestnut Hill was red; Francis didn’t stop. He pressed the gas pedal to the floor and careened through the light, barely missing the B-line train heading towards Boston College. He made a left onto Commonwealth Avenue, in the opposite direction to the one the cop had taken moments before.

  “She’s getting away,” screamed Otis.

  Boyd accelerated out into traffic, causing more mayhem. The car that swerved to miss Francis had slammed into a parked car. Boyd made a fast U-turn to follow Claudia and crew. The light was still red, and the train blocked the left side of the road.

  “Fuck!” screamed Boyd and then went for it, driving down the wrong side of the road. Cars honked and swerved out of the way, including Francis, who had made a U-turn to head in the opposite direction, trying to throw off their pursuers.

  Otis raised his gun again, but his brother knocked it down. In all the commotion, Boyd slammed into the curb, blowing one of his tires.

  Francis waved as he steered the car onto Chestnut Hill, heading towards Brookline.

  Boyd backed his car up and turned down a side street on three wheels. The brothers had to ditch the car and find a new “loaner” before the cops came. Sirens had already started to wail in the distance.

  ***

  Francis didn’t go far. He pulled off into Applebee’s parking lot at Cleveland Circle and parked behind the building, near the dumpster. Shutting off the engine, he hit a number on speed dial on his cell. He barked a few orders and slammed the phone shut within thirty seconds.

  Claudia pretended she wasn’t in the car. In her mind, she was on some beach somewhere.

  Parker, the realist, couldn’t hold it in. “What are you doing? Why’d you stop?” she demanded.

  Francis flipped open the console between the two front seats and pulled out a cigar. He clipped the end and lit it. “We can’t drive around in this car. I’m sure the cops are looking at footage, so they’ll know the plate numbers. Another car will be here in twenty minutes.”

  “Who are you? Whitey Bulger?” Parker was too stunned to keep her mouth shut.

  “So, you do know about gangsters. Then why in the hell did you pack your gun in your luggage?”

  “I’m not a gangster.”

  “If I gave you my gun, would you shoot her?” He nodded to Claudia.

  Parker put her hand out, expecting him to oblige.

  “Maybe next time you’ll keep it with you.” Francis inhaled deeply on his cigar and then blew the smoke out the window. He eyed Claudia. “Do you know those guys?”

  “N-no,” she stuttered. “I didn’t know many of my…” she didn’t complete the thought.

  Francis grunted. No, she probably didn’t know much of anything. “How much did you take?”

  Claudia fidgeted with her purse. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “How much did you steal from your husband?” His tone implied Don’t Fuck With Me.

  Claudia peered out the window and studied a sign that read: Do Not Park. Violators Will Be Towed.

  She mumbled, “Over a million.”

  Francis whistled. Parker turned around in her seat and stared at the woman in disbelief. Ida had been killed for a million dollars.

  “And you thought you’d get away with it?” Francis kept his voice even, but the implication was there. No matter what, Claudia was a dead woman.

  Claudia teared up. She kept her focus on the sign outside the car window. The words started to blur together, but she was too proud to wipe the tears away.

  “From what I’ve been able to gather, those guys are intent on finishing the job. Your husband has kidnapped their mother, sister, and half-wit cousin.”

  Claudia dug her fingernails into her palms. “Oh God, what did I do?”

  Parker snapped, “I don’t like the term half-wit.” The hurt look on her face stunned him.

  Francis, taken aback, said. “Parker…‌I’m sorry.”

  “People can’t help the way they are,” Parker continued, ignoring his apology.

  “I wasn’t implying anything about their cousin…” He didn’t know what set her off, so he stopped.

  In the backseat, Claudia rocked back and forth, ignoring Parker. It made Fritz nervous, and he whined softly.

  “There could have been poison in the cookie,” said Parker.

  For the first time that afternoon, Francis was shaken. Was Parker losing her mind?

  “My mom wasn’t crazy. And she wasn’t a half-wit.” She glared into Francis’s eyes. “She was—” Parker couldn’t come up with what her mom was. “She was my mother.”

  Francis remained silent. Claudia sensed the tension between the two and stopped rocking. Parker opened her door, climbed out, and wandered to a nearby picnic table.

  Claudia sniffed. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” Francis tapped his cigar on the car door. “But it has.”

  The words hit Claudia like a punch to the face. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “That is the question I’ve been asking myself ever since you jumped into the car.” He stubbed out his cigar.

  A black sedan pulled up behind them, and Francis got out and freed Fritz from the backseat. Fritz glanced around and then ran over to Parker and sat down by her feet.

  It didn’t take long for Francis to move all of the stuff to the new car. He motioned for Claudia to climb into the backseat of the sedan. After removing the license plates, the delivery guy took off in the wanted vehicle. The two men didn’t speak a word to each other.

  Francis leaned in the driver’s side window. “Claudia, I’m going over there to talk to Parker. I would appreciate it if you stayed put. Promise me we won’t have any issues.”

  Claudia nodded her promise.

  Francis looked at Parker and Fritz, sitting together without communicating, but completely in tune with each other. He took a seat on the bench next to the student.

  “Are you ready to go?” Francis asked.

  “What about her?” Parker nodded in Claudia’s direction.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Parker reached over and petted Fritz’s head. “I want to sit next to Fritz.”

  Francis grunted his agreement and off they went.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Boyd and Otis sat in a restaurant outside of Boston.

  “Now what?” asked Otis.

  “We have to go to Colorado.” Boyd stared out the window, avoiding the sadness in Otis’s eyes. “We don’t have much time to get them out.” He was referring to their family the evil man had kidnapped.

  “Can’t we just finish the job here?” Otis stirred the melted ice cream on his pie. He didn’t have the heart to eat, but had ordered it out of habit.

  “Odds are she’s gone, and we don’t have the time to track her down. We only have days to get to Colorado and save Mom, Clarice, and Dee. Besides, who knows if that asshole will actually do as he says?” Boyd ground his teeth together.

  “Who in the fuck was that guy?” Otis still couldn’t believe the brief car chase. Never before had they experienced any issues with their jobs. Normally, they showed up, flipped the coin, finished the job, and then headed home to await the next assignment. It was easy. Easy as pie.

  Boyd shook his head. “Don’t know. But he’s a pro. I had a bad feeling abou
t this assignment from the beginning.” He sipped his iced tea. “We should have refused from the get-go. Never trust a man with black eyes.” He motioned to the waitress for their check. “We better get going.”

  Otis shoved the plate away and stood. “I hate this job.”

  Neither of them had ever said it before, but as soon as Otis did, they both realized they had hated it from the beginning. Even when they were delivering packages, they felt dirty and used. Yeah, the money was nice, but the feelings that went with it weren’t.

  “Never again, Otis. Never again.” Boyd hoped that wouldn’t be because of the evil man. Once he decided to leave the business, the idea became an obsession. Please, let us survive this.

  The brothers left the restaurant.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Francis, Parker, and Claudia walked into the restaurant the Woolf brothers had recently vacated. Fritz sat outside, waiting for them unchained, since he would never leave his post unless instructed.

  The three travelers sat around a table big enough to seat eight. None of them were comfortable sitting close to each other. Francis wanted to keep an eye on both women. He didn’t want Claudia to make a break for it, and he didn’t want Parker to have another breakdown. What in the hell had she meant by “The cookie may have been poisoned”?

  Claudia trusted Francis more than Parker. She sensed that Parker wanted to snap her neck at the first available opportunity. When she first decided to invade Parker’s life, she thought the student had zero passion. Now she realized how wrong she was. Hatred bubbled under Park’s dull surface like a dormant geyser ready to spring back to life. How much longer until Parker exploded?

  Parker didn’t want to be around either of them. Why had she said the cookie was poisoned? Had that incident made her mom kill herself? It wasn’t until then that she realized how much guilt she suppressed. She kept no photos or mementos in her apartment precisely to distance herself from such culpability. Even if she kept only photos of her grandparents on display, when she saw them, her mind wandered to her mom. Parker never could quite figure out why the memories upset her, but she soon decided to pack up all of the photos, knickknacks—everything that had anything to do with her family—and put the stuff into storage. She never intended to get it out of storage, but each month, she paid the bill.

  Parker probably never would have realized her deep-seated guilt if Claudia hadn’t jumped into the car. Actually, if Claudia had never plotted to kill her, Ida would still be alive, the boys’ cousin wouldn’t be in trouble, and Parker wouldn’t have met Francis, so she wouldn’t have flipped her lid. Sure, he said “half-wit,” but Parker knew what he meant. Why had she said that about the cookie! Now Parker was dealing with Ida’s death and the guilt about her mom. She was at her breaking point.

  The waitress approached and took their orders. It was late at night, but the place was open twenty-four hours a day. They each ordered coffee and nothing else.

  The waitress rolled her eyes. Why didn’t they just drive through McDonald’s and not waste her time?

  “So, Claudia, why don’t you tell us why we shouldn’t kill you?” Francis got right to the point. For all the hours they had spent in the car, no one had spoken. But Francis couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  When he had determined to kill Claudia earlier that day, he hadn’t known she would make it so easy for him.

  Claudia looked to Francis and then to Parker. How in the world could she get herself out of this? “It wasn’t personal.”

  Parker scoffed. “You set me up!”

  Francis motioned for Parker to keep it down.

  “But I didn’t see it that way,” Claudia whined.

  Parker crossed her arms and stared her doppelgänger down, not blinking. “How is getting me murdered not personal?”

  “Can I tell you why?”

  “Can you bring Ida back?” Parker retorted. Then she reached for her fork and tried to stab Claudia from across the table.

  Francis was quick to react.

  Claudia sat frozen in her chair. Francis looked around to see how many patrons had noticed as he casually removed any sharp objects from Parker’s reach. Fortunately, the place was nearly empty.

  Parker placed her hands together as if she was praying and rested her elbows on the table. She closed her eyes and propped her head up with her hands. Sighing deeply, Parker looked as though she was asking God to help her control her impulses. In fact, she was thinking of a way to kill Claudia while Francis wasn’t looking.

  The waitress had noticed the commotion. “Oh dear, Carl. Looks like we have another lover’s quarrel.” In her years of waitressing, Celia had seen it all. A love triangle between two sisters and one man didn’t shock her. It was obvious the women were twins; they looked almost identical. Celia had determined that all fights boiled down to two issues: money and jealously. She’d bet all her tips for the month that the husband had slept with his wife’s sister.

  Francis eyed the praying Parker and decided to settle the matter once and for all. “Okay, Claudia, we’ll listen to your reason.” He shushed Parker’s complaints and continued, “But it better be damn good. I don’t know how much longer I can keep her”—he motioned to Parker—“in control. And I really can’t blame her.”

  Claudia avoided looking in the student’s direction, relaying her story to Francis instead. Claudia knew she had to put on a show. Her life depended on it. Her mother always told her she was dramatic, and Claudia hoped her skills wouldn’t let her down at the moment. However, when she spoke of her unborn child, she wept real tears. Neither Francis nor Parker shed a tear, but Francis’s eyes softened somewhat. Claudia couldn’t tell whether Parker felt any empathy. She never looked over at the student, but the vibe she got wasn’t giving Claudia a warm, fuzzy feeling.

  ***

  Francis came up with a plan. All three of them, and Fritz, would drive to Colorado to take care of Dennis. Anyone who would stomp his unborn child to death had to be dealt with first. As for Claudia, the former military man had no idea what he should do. Earlier, he had wanted to kill her. After hearing her story, he still wanted to wring her neck, but he also felt sorry for her.

  According to MapQuest, the drive would take more than thirty hours. Long hours didn’t bother Francis, but thirty hours of driving would be hard. They would have to stay in a hotel one night, and even though Francis hated sharing a room, all three of them would have to stay together. He might have to drug Parker to keep her from murdering Claudia when he wasn’t standing guard, which meant picking up some sleeping pills along the way and slipping them into Parker’s drink. For now, he wanted Claudia alive for the simple reason that it would make it easier to hunt down her husband. He secretly hoped Claudia would be smart enough to escape after Dennis was gone. Parker would never have the will to track her down—at least he hoped so.

  Parker wanted Claudia dead. Yeah, Claudia had it bad, Parker reasoned. Her marriage sounded horrible, and no woman should be treated that way. But Parker could not get over the knowledge that Ida was dead because of Claudia. If Ida hadn’t been killed, the story would be different. It had become an idée fixe. Claudia had to die, no matter what, and Parker would not rest until she finished the job.

  Claudia wasn’t exactly thrilled with the turn of events either, but she felt as if she had no alternative. She trusted Francis somewhat; Parker, not at all. When Francis wasn’t looking, Parker would make threatening gestures, miming slitting Claudia’s throat or shooting her.

  After several hours of driving, Francis needed a break. He checked into a Best Western. When the front desk clerk saw the twins with him, he gave Francis a suggestive wink. “Would you like just one bed, sir?”

  Francis could never tolerate machismo. “No. Two beds and a cot, please.” He wanted to punch the clerk in the face for his rudeness, yet he decided the best course was not to draw too much attention to the trio.

  The slimy clerk ruffled a hand through his greas
y hair and then rubbed his pockmarked chin, looking crestfallen. His personal life never lived up to his own expectations, so he lived vicariously through the guests who checked into the hotel. Whenever he placed a call for a hooker for a client, he felt on top of the world. Francis had crushed the man’s hopes for the night. He didn’t see too many threesomes in his hotel, and he couldn’t wait to brag to his buddies about it. Twins!

  “Of course, sir. Will you need anything else?” The clerk did his best to hide his disdain.

  “Are there any 24-hour pharmacies nearby?” asked Francis.

  Although he didn’t want to drug Parker, Francis knew he had to. If she didn’t sleep, he wouldn’t be able to either, since he would have to be vigilant to ensure she didn’t kill Claudia.

  “If you take a left out of the parking lot and then a right at Dunkin’ Donuts, you’ll find a CVS.”

  Francis nodded his thanks and ushered the women back to the car. “I have a headache,” he explained. “I need some painkillers.”

  Claudia, who hadn’t been prepared for the road trip, welcomed the chance to pick up a toothbrush and other incidentals. Parker wished they were in Texas, so she could buy an Uzi and blow Claudia to bits. The image brought a cheerful smile to her face. Oh, how she wished she was in a Tarantino film.

  Ida loved Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs. When she had first watched the movies, Parker had thought the violence too graphic, too fake; now, she longed to be able to pull the trigger and watch Claudia’s flesh, muscle, bone, and other gore splatter the wall. Maybe Tarantino had lost a loved one early in life and that explained why he made those movies.

  Parker wandered down the magazine and book aisle. A book cover featuring three drops of blood caught her attention. In Cold Blood. Without giving it a second thought, she snatched the copy off the shelf and wandered to the cashier to complete the purchase. Years back, she had heard of the novel, but had never before felt the desire to read it. Perhaps now she wanted to learn from it. Leaning against a pole outside the store, Parker opened to the first page.

  When Francis and Claudia emerged from the store together, Claudia stopped in her tracks, noticing the book in Parker’s hands. Parker tapped the cover menacingly. Francis shook his head, a blend of disgust and amusement twinkling in his eyes.