Eviscerating the Snake - The Complete Trilogy

by Ashley Fontainne

  “Hey there, darling. How’s my girl?”

  Tears welled in Audra’s eyes as she reached out with her free hand and held Rosemary’s gnarled one.

  “Wonderful, now that you are here. But why are you in a wheelchair? Are you all right?”

  Rosemary’s eyes cut quickly over to mine, a questioning look behind them. Thankfully, she was astute enough to comprehend that Audra’s memory was not fully intact yet.

  “Well, darling, I am getting on in years you know. I just felt like being chauffeured today since it’s so hot outside. Now, enough about me, I came here to see you.”

  Audra sighed and looked over at me for a moment, her eyes full of questions and confusion. “I’m fine…just tired and confused. It is a very odd feeling not being able to remember things. I must say, I don’t like it at all. What I do recall makes no sense anyway, and I believe was just a dream since it doesn’t pertain to anything at Winscott.”

  “Well now, honey, you have been through a lot. Maybe this is just the Lord’s way of giving you a chance to fully recover and focus on yourself and not others for a while. When the time is right, you’ll remember.”

  “She’s right. You will remember when you are ready. First, we need to get you well enough to get out of this place. The food here sucks, and I am ready to get to my kitchen and cook you a proper meal,” I said, hoping I could change the subject.

  “Speaking of food, I’m famished. Dr. Kingston said I could eat, and even if it is nasty food, I don’t care. I believe I could eat a piece of cardboard right about now.”

  “Then you go get you some delicious hospital vittles with your man here. I am sure you two need to spend some quality time together anyway, not wasting it by listening to an old lady ramble. And after your first home-cooked meal at Steve’s, maybe you can come have another at my house when you feel up to it? Now Steve, kindly push me out of here so you can feed your princess. She needs some food in her belly, even if it is bland.”

  I stood up and moved over behind the wheelchair, ready to oblige her request when she pulled Audra’s hand to her lips and kissed it.

  “Don’t forget to come see me before you head back to Phoenix, my dear.”

  “You have my word, my friend. I won’t.” Audra said, her eyes locked with Rosemary’s and full of love. “I could never forget about you.”

  Trevor saw the movement and opened the door, and I handed his aunt over to him. She motioned for me to close the door and follow her into the hallway, and I knew what she was going to ask me.

  “She really doesn’t remember, does she?”

  “No, she doesn’t. When she woke up earlier, Nicole happened to be in the room as well, and she blurted out what happened. Thank God she left out the part about Gabrielle.”

  “Trevor filled me in this morning about what happened since I refused to watch the news. They never tell the truth anyway…just their own twisted version of events. What happened in my house was simply horrific, but when he told me about what happened to her poor assistant, Gabrielle, well, my heart just…”

  She stopped, a hitch in her voice signaling she was about to cry. I knew all this death and pain had to remind her about her daughter, Gina. It didn’t matter that over thirty years had passed since her daughter’s murder, for parents never completely get over the death of a child. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure, and continued.

  “I take comfort in the knowledge that all this is over, though I hate that it took so much carnage to end it. Olin Kemper is now paying his dues for the immoral life he lived here on earth. It’s a crying shame that he slipped through the noose of justice for so many years and tainted the lives of others with his evil ways. The hardest part of the ordeal starts now. Recovering from all of this and learning to absorb everything that has transpired will be painful for everyone involved. Some will be able to cope and move on. Others may not. We don’t know yet which category Audra will fall into, but I suspect it will be the first one. But she is going to need you now more than ever…and more than even she herself knows.”

  “And I plan on being her rock. She was very close to Gabrielle, and I know she will be devastated when she finds out she is dead. I’m afraid if I don’t tell her, she might have it sprung on her like what Nicole did this morning. But I know I need to because it is my understanding that the funeral is tentatively scheduled for this Saturday in Phoenix, and I know she will want to go. Maybe it will help the healing process begin by putting this mess behind her.”

  “Only time will tell, Steve. Either way, no matter what happens, at least it’s over. The monsters after her are gone now. When her heart is ready to deal with what happened, her mind will let the memories return. And you will need to be there for her because when the truth comes home, she will have to come to terms the fact that she killed someone. No matter what the reasoning behind it, dealing with that heavy load will be hard for her.”

  “I know, and as I promised her mother, I will never fail her again. I will be there for her, no matter what,” I said, choking back the tears.

  “I never doubted that you would be. You two were made for each other. I know true love when I see it, and believe me, it radiates from you both. Now, enough of this talk. Trevor, take me home. I have a house to clean.”

  I smiled as I watched Trevor push her down the hallway toward the elevator, smiling like a kid that just found a stash of chocolate. She was right: I hadn’t been so happy since Kathryn, and even then, I don’t think the love was as strong.

  The door opened with ease and I was sitting next to my love once again, her warm hand clasping my own and her eyes bright and blue, questions spinning behind them. Never had I seen anything as beautiful as the smile that she displayed when she looked at me.

  I believe that no man in the history of the world had ever been happier. My love was back with me.

  AFTER A QUICK TRIP down to the cafeteria for some coffee, I was back in my room again, waiting to get the hell out of this Podunk hospital. In my designer Walmart duds, no less. God, could the material be any rougher? How did people wear the scratchy shit?

  If I had to keep up the act of the overly concerned friend/coworker, one that was exceedingly thankful for having her life saved, I would explode. Even actors had a limit on how long they could play a part without taking a break, and I hadn’t had one in months.

  The only good thing that had come out of my visit to the little twit’s room was that I got to hear for myself that she didn’t remember a thing. How hysterical was that? Were the gods above suddenly smiling down on me, giving me ample time to get out of the country before she did remember? It sure seemed so, and who was I to doubt divine intervention? Looks like I would be able to use my plane ticket after all on Thursday night. The drive to Raleigh was over 2,000 miles away, but if I pushed it, I might be able to make it.

  Oh hell, who was I kidding? I would be a rambling fool by the time I made it there, and I needed my head about me to pull it off. Besides, I did need to make one stop in Havensport to get a few things, so I needed to change my flight. Sonofabitch, I didn’t have a phone to use. I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave phone records that could be traced back to me, so I would have to wait until I got home. Yet another thing on my to-do list.

  I couldn’t believe the great stroke of luck, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think it would last for long. Audra may not be able to recall what happened, but she could remember at any given moment. Even though that gave me some breathing room to make my escape, I couldn’t calm the worry about the police coming to see me, which I knew eventually, they would. If the idiotic nurse was right, they had my clothes that were covered in Kevin’s blood, and questions would surely follow.

  I took another sip of the coffee and stared out the window. Good god but the crowd of reporters was ridiculous! When I had stepped out of the elevator earlier, I was lucky that none of them recognized me and they left me alone. I believe I just experienced the first time in my life that I was glad I didn’t
have my makeup with me. Did I dare hope that when my ride arrived that I could sneak out without being spotted as well? I sure hoped so, and it seemed that whoever was coming to pick me up was taking their sweet time about it, and it would probably be dark by the time I left anyway.

  I was antsy and felt like a sitting duck. The last time I was this nervous I was in the middle of planning the same event, but that time, it ended with me killing someone.

  Audra was lucky she was being granted a temporary reprieve.

  The day that I kept buried for so many years surfaced, and my thoughts began wandering down that path again, even though I really didn’t want them to. I thought that girl didn’t exist anymore, but apparently she still did.

  It was the summer of 1970 when I buried her, but damnit, she was creeping back. The parking lot full of news vans faded and the image of another hospital room appeared, only this time, I was sitting at my father’s side while he fought for his last breath....

  “…Cassie, now you listen up here, girl. What I got to tell you is important.”

  My father was my last vestige to my previous world, but he was dying, leaving me all alone. Momma died three years before and cancer was quickly taking him. My heart was breaking with each cough, each gasp for air that he took. Once he was gone, there would be no one left to love me, no one left to take care of me, and certainly no comfort or happiness left in my life. All I would have was Frank, and that was the worst part of all.

  I wiped away the tears and responded. “Yes, sir, I’m listenin’.”

  “I ain’t long for this world and you know it. Guess I’ve just been hangin’ on, waitin’ for you to show me what you’re made of, but you ain’t yet. You’re weak and never learned my lessons about life and fightin’ for what you want. Guess that is your Ma and I’s fault. We done spoilt you rotten. But girl, you have been pushed but you ain’t pushed back yet. Breaks my heart.”

  “Daddy, what are you talking about?” I replied.

  “Don’t you try playin’ no games with me, Cassandra Faye Williams. You know ’xactly what I mean. I’ve seen the bruises.”

  I couldn’t believe that he knew. I thought I hid them well enough each time I came to visit him in the hospital, but apparently, I was wrong. My body began to shake, terror rising in me, thinking that if Frank found out, he would assume I told my father what he had been doing to me for the past three months of our marriage.

  “Daddy, I…”

  “Hush, girl and listen. No daughter of mine is gonna live like this, and I can’t get out of this bed to take care of it for ya. But I do have a plan.”

  For the first time in months, I felt a glimmer of hope to escape the nightly beatings, so I stopped shaking and listened.

  “A plan? What sort of plan?”

  “Once I am gone, there ain’t nothing left keepin’ you here in Havensport, especially that no-good husband of yours. I knew I should never have agreed to let you marry him. Somethin’ in my gut didn’t sit right ’bout him, but I knew I was dyin’ soon and hoped he would be able to provide you with a proper life.” Tears sprang into his eyes for only the second time I had ever witnessed, the first time being at Momma’s funeral. His withered hand reached up and pawed at them as he continued.

  “There is a key hidden under my shaving cream in the bathroom at home. It belongs to a safety deposit box at First National—box number 65. In it, you’ll find freedom from your bondage, if you can figure out what to do with what’s inside.”

  “Daddy, I don’t understand. What do you mean?” I asked, confused, wondering if he was just so drugged up that he didn’t know what he was saying to me.

  He coughed hard and thick, sticky blood mixed with sputum flew out of his mouth. I reached over to wipe it away and he grabbed my wrist.

  “Use that brain of yours, Cassie. Free yourself. Push back.”

  He jerked violently in the bed and coughed once more, his chest heaving with the effort. Then, as suddenly as the coughing fit started, it stopped, and he moved no more.

  I fled the hospital and ran to my car, devastated beyond words. He was gone, and all I had left was a man that enjoyed knocking me around the house whenever the mood struck him. I was not quite yet twenty years old and my life was over. I was doomed to suffer however long I had left at the hands of a brutal man that threw me around the house for his sick amusement. Once inside my car, I tried to start it up but my hands were shaking too much.

  “I wish I’d never met you, Frank Stevenson! You dirty bastard!” I screamed in my car. Why oh why did I let his sweet charm and daddy’s money blind me to the evil man that lived inside? I remembered the day after the first time he beat me up and the disaster that going to the police station had been. I didn’t realize how deeply his family ties were with the entire town and that the reach extended all the way into the pockets of the local law. After filing the report and heading home, I had been shocked to see his car in the driveway, and even more shocked to discover that he already knew where I had been. That beating left me in bed for three days straight, and the fear of ever speaking about my nightmare to anyone, including my father, was permanently embedded in my mind and body.

  But somehow, Daddy knew, and I wasn’t the one that told him. My tears became a slow flowing trickle as I recalled what he said only minutes ago. Did he really mean it? Did he devise a way for me to escape? And how could he have accomplished that from his hospital bed?

  There was only one way to find out, and it began by me retrieving that key.

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of my childhood home and went inside, a strange sense of sadness at knowing my family would no longer reside there mixed with excitement at a chance for freedom. I went straight to the bathroom cabinet and opened it, smiling when I saw the can of Barbesol. Sure enough, a small, silver key rested underneath it, the number “65” deeply etched across it. I let out a small squeal and ran back to my car, thoughts of everything else fleeing my head while I started up the car and headed back into town.

  I walked into First National Bank and let out a small sigh of relief when I noticed the place was practically empty. I had worried on the drive over that I might run into someone that was on the Stevenson payroll that would run back and tell them they saw me at the bank. Luck was with me when the only person I recognized was Sally Spencer, who had been my high school math teacher, working part-time as a teller.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Cassandra. How’s your dad doing?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

  “Oh, ’bout the same, Mrs. Spencer. I really need to get back to him, but he asked me to stop by here and pick up some things for him from his safety deposit box. Number 65,” I said, holding the key up for her to see.

  “Well, sure thing, darlin’. We will get you outta here quick then,” she said, coming around the counter and heading toward the small cave-looking area that I assumed housed the safety deposit boxes. “You just come here and we’ll get you fixed up. Sign here by your name, sweetie.”

  It felt strange looking at a document that had my name on it, since I didn’t even know that Daddy had a safety deposit box, much less one that listed me on the account. Scribbling my name in unreadable chicken scratch, I followed her into the small room and over to the larger boxes. She inserted her key and motioned for me to do the same with mine, and then she slid out the heavy box.

  “Wow, he must have some bullion in here!” she said, struggling under the box’s heavy weight. I helped to move it to the table, and we set it down with a loud thud. Mrs. Spencer smiled and said, “Shew…glad that’s over! Take all the time you need. We don’t close for another hour.”

  Once she was gone, I opened the lid and almost fainted at what I saw inside.

  Piles of thousand dollar bills were stacked neatly, the bundles about three inches thick and each secured with a rubber band. I had never seen so much money in my entire life, and I wasn’t exactly sure it was real. Could it be? I mean, I knew that my daddy didn’t care much for banks a
nd always said he preferred to keep cash someplace where a bank wouldn’t lose it. Coming from the depression like he did, it was understandable. But what was in front of me was nothing short of a miracle, like money from Heaven just rained down on me.

  I glanced back up and made sure I was still alone before I began the task of counting my newfound treasure. I lifted out ten stacks of the piles of green and was just about to start counting when I noticed what had been hidden beneath them. There, in the midst of the wads of cash, a shiny handgun nestled amongst the money. Underneath that, there was an envelope with the names “Nicole” and “Cassandra” written in my mother’s handwriting.

  The excitement of the cash was replaced with curiosity. Who the hell was Nicole?

  I moved the gun aside and slid out the paper, my hands shaking like crazy. I ran my fingers under the sealed side and shook the contents out onto the table. The first thing I noticed was my birth certificate, followed by another one and a social security card. Confused, I picked the other document up and looked at it. The name I read on the second one said “Nicole Simmons,” and the date of birth was the same as mine, only minutes after my own birth. I set it next to mine and compared the two, noticing that the other difference, besides the name, was the father missing. However, the mother was listed as Jerlene Simmons, who was my mother. Even the signature of the attending doctor was the same on each, dated the same day.

  What the hell did those papers mean? I was an only child. There was never any mention of a sister, even one that perhaps died at birth. But even if that was the case and I did have a twin that died, why wasn’t daddy’s name listed as the father, and why was her last name that of my mother’s maiden name?