Thorns of Rosewood

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Thorns of Rosewood Page 19

by G M Barlean


  Debbie smiled and cracked her knuckles. The sound drove a chill up my spine. Tanya’s eyes burned with hate—something I never thought I’d see. Maybe years of pent-up frustration had to bubble out at some point. Maybe this proved true for all of us. I glanced from face to face, then to Doug Junior.

  He still sat there. Why?

  “So who’s driving?” Tanya asked.

  “Not you. Naomi fired you this morning, so she might call the police if you even go onto her driveway.” Betty hiked the strap of her purse up on her shoulder. “We won’t all fit in my little car. Debbie? Josie?”

  “I’ll drive.” My car had more room than Debbie’s. It made sense. Plus, I’d ridden with Debbie before. The woman had a lead foot.

  Chapter 30

  Josie Learns Good Manners Don’t Count With Murderers—1974

  My headlights swept across Talbot’s lush green lawn. A strange mixture of jealousy, hatred, and fear twisted a knot in my stomach. A large fountain gurgled and a cherub spit out water into a massive basin shaped like a clamshell.

  Betty left the car first. The look of determination on her face made me both confident and terrified. Debbie and Tanya fell in behind Betty’s long steps. I could almost feel the vibrations of anger in the air.

  Be calm. Right. Not gonna happen.

  Betty’s finger jammed at the doorbell. The sheer curtains over the large bay window parted. Naomi stared at us through the glass. An image of Medusa sprang to mind. The curtain fell back and footsteps sounded.

  None of us had ever been in the Talbot house, only viewed it from the road like all the other common folk. It was as I had always imagined. A winding staircase leading up to the second level. Shiny white tile floor. Large entry mirror. Dark, heavy furniture. But of all the ostentatious trappings of the home, Naomi stood out as the most blatant statement of exclusivity, hands down.

  “Well. This must be my lucky day. A visit from all my favorite people.” Naomi smiled stiffly, sweeping her hand toward us like a game show hostess as she rolled her eyes and tapped her foot. She wore high-heel lounge slippers with fuzzy fluff at the toe. Marabou mules, they were called. The fluff danced with each tap. She held a glass of white wine in one hand and the other hand sat firmly planted on her hip, her long red nails like drops of blood against her silken white robe.

  “So this is what you look like without makeup. I’ve always wondered.” Debbie smirked.

  “We need to talk.” Betty’s voice was firm.

  “Well. Start talking.” Naomi took a casual sip of wine, one eyebrow raised.

  “Inside, Naomi. We need to come inside. This is going to take longer than a few minutes.” If Tanya had stuck out her tongue, it would have matched her tone.

  “Please, Naomi. It’s important.” I hoped the magic word would make a difference.

  Seconds ticked away as we waited. Naomi finished her wine in one gulp. “What the hell. I’m curious.” She turned and walked into the sitting room off the entry.

  We followed, and I closed the front door behind us.

  Naomi’s white robe fluttered around her legs as she walked to the table where a bottle of wine chilled in a bucket. She filled her glass, took another drink, then finally turned to face us. “Spit it out. I won’t have much patience for this, so you’d better get to your point.”

  Betty stepped forward. “Your antics today were way out of line, as we’ve come to expect from you.”

  “Antics? Whatever do you mean?” Naomi looked to be having fun.

  “Firing Tanya. Making sure Josie’s contract didn’t get renewed. Sending Debbie a threatening letter.”

  Betty wasn’t finished when Naomi interrupted her. “I suppose you think I’m behind the news about you and Josie being lesbians, too.”

  “We’re not lesbians!” I hadn’t meant to yell, but darn it, it wasn’t true.

  “Sure you’re not, Josie.” Naomi drowned her laughter in another swallow of wine.

  “Don’t forget how you murdered Mari.” Tanya threw her hands up. “None of the rest of it matters compared to that.”

  “That’s enough. I’m not going to stand here in my own home and be accused of murder.” Naomi pointed to the front door. “You can all get out right now.”

  “And if we don’t?” Debbie stepped past Betty and went to stand nose-to-nose with Naomi.

  I took a step back. This was about to get ugly. Naomi’s face blanched white, and for once, she had nothing to say.

  Tanya joined Debbie. “We’re not going anywhere until you give us some answers. I know you ran Mari off the road. It was the last thing she said to me before she died!” Tanya was screaming now. Her shrill yells bounced off the room’s high ceiling. “You only fired me to keep my mouth shut, and it isn’t going to work, I can tell you right now!”

  I looked out into the foyer. Surely Doug would come in and put an end to this catfight.

  Betty joined Debbie and Tanya. “Admit it, Naomi. Starting rumors and getting people fired is bad, but nothing can ever compare to what you did to Mari.”

  “I did no such thing. You’re all yapping dogs without a stitch of proof about any of these accusations.” She stepped toward Tanya. “And if Mari said my name at her end, it was probably because she was admitting defeat.”

  Tanya lunged at Naomi, but Betty grabbed her arm and held her back.

  “Get out. Right now.” Naomi stormed to the big mahogany doorway in the entry, her silk robe whipping around her legs as she went.

  Debbie marched after her. “We’re not leaving until we’re damn good and ready, and I’d like to see you make us.”

  Betty and Tanya were right on Debbie’s heels, and I brought up the rear, hoping we would have to leave. This had become a disaster. It could only get worse. Where in the hell is Doug?

  “Debbie’s right. We’re not going anywhere.” Betty blocked the doorway.

  For a moment, Naomi had a trapped look on her face, then one of her eyebrows rose and she turned with a huff and went toward the back of the house.

  Tanya reached out and grabbed her by the arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Naomi snatched her arm away and surged on.

  We followed, ending up in the sizeable living room. French doors led to a patio at the rear of the house. A wet bar stood in the corner by the doors. And an enormous painting of Naomi hung over the fireplace. I stared at it, my mouth hanging open, trying to comprehend the colossal ego it took to have such a thing made.

  She spun around to face us. “You all have quite the imagination. Some might even call your accusations crazy.” Naomi made circles with her finger by her temple. “Seriously. Why would I waste my time on any of you? You’re nothing to me. Less than nothing.” Regardless of her confident words, she was pacing back and forth, the fluff of her marabou mules blowing in the breeze created by her fast steps.

  “Well, you’d better take us seriously right now, Naomi, because we are prepared to settle this stupid vendetta you have against us, no matter what it takes.” Betty broadened her stance and put her fists on her hips.

  “Oh good heavens. You must be joking.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Do you all even know who you are? What people think of you?” Naomi began to explain it to us. She pointed at Tanya. “You’re nothing more than a whiney little nobody. A little pissant married to a blue-collar worker.” She wheeled to face Debbie. “You… a washed-up, white-trash punk whose mom was the town drunk.” “Betty… you’re a lesbian slut from what the rumors tell us. And Josie”—she jerked her thumb at me—“is nothing more than Betty’s mousy, lesbian sex partner.”

  Debbie stepped forward and grabbed Naomi’s arm, digging her fingers into skin. “Take it back, you bitch.”

  Naomi tore away. “Get off me, lowlife.” She wiped at her arm as though Debbie’s touch had left filth. “Now get out or I’m calling my husband.” Naomi grabbed the phone sitting on an end table and shook the receiver at us.

  Doug isn’t here.

  “Go ahea
d, Naomi. Call him. I’ll bet Doug would be interested in all your escapades. Surely the poor man will come to his senses eventually. He can’t possibly love you. You’re too cold for even your own mother to love.” Betty spit out the fiery words, and it didn’t look as though she’d regret them any time soon.

  Naomi threw her head back and laughed. “You fool. Doug would never cross me. You’re living in the dream world you all had back in high school. Back when you thought Doug was such a great guy. Well, let me tell you. He’s not so great. He’s a lazy coward, and if it weren’t for me, he’d have no career at all.” She panted in anger.

  “Maybe happiness means more than a career, Naomi. Have you ever thought of that?” Tanya’s chin jutted forward in defiance.

  “Oh, what would you know? You and your ridiculous Rusty and those scroungy children you raised. You think you’re happy, but you’re too stupid to know the difference.”

  Tanya’s hands shot up and she rushed forward at Naomi as if she would choke the life out of her. Debbie pulled Tanya away. “No. If anyone’s going to lay hands on this woman, it’s going to be me.”

  Naomi ran around the couch to get away from Debbie and Tanya—surprisingly quick for someone in marabou mules.

  “And if I put my hands on you, it’s going to be to drag your fancy ass to the police station to confess.” Debbie inched toward her.

  “Confess to what? Knowing you’re all a bunch of losers? Confess to being twice the woman any of you could even dream of being?” She laughed, her eyes glowing with self-adoration. This seemed like the final round of a game she had been waiting to play for a long time.

  Debbie drew the jackknife from her pocket.

  I gasped. “Debbie, no.”

  Naomi’s smile grew wild at the sight of the old weapon. “Don’t worry, Josie. She doesn’t have what it takes to use it.” Naomi picked up a tall, heavy crystal vase. “Go ahead. Come on. I’ll take you all on.” She kicked off her shoes and they flew through the air and tumbled behind her.

  I stood frozen, watching, shaking in fear of what would happen next.

  Betty and Tanya were at Debbie’s side, ready to fight. They mimicked Naomi, standing with their hands raised, clenching into fists and unclenching, feet spread shoulder width, and crouched to move into action.

  Had everyone lost their minds? “Maybe we need to all take a step back. Settle down before we do something we’ll regret.” Things had to stop or there’d be no turning back.

  “Oh shut up, Josie. Go back to your little house and pet your cats. If you don’t have the spine for this, you shouldn’t have come.” Naomi’s eyes darted from the three women to me.

  Is that what people thought of me? Had being nice made me harmless? I stepped up to stand by my friends. “You really don’t know anything about me, Naomi. I don’t even own a cat.”

  Tanya reached out and grabbed my hand in solidarity. I gripped Tanya’s hand tightly, needing the support.

  “So what am I supposed to do now when I don’t have a job, Naomi?” Tanya asked. She let go of my hand and began to creep closer to Naomi.

  “You should have thought of that before you went to the police.” Naomi took a step in Tanya’s direction, showing no trepidation.

  “And what in the hell did your stupid anonymous letter mean, Naomi?” Debbie began to move on the other side of the couch, trapping her.

  “You’re nuts. I never sent you a letter.” Naomi gripped the vase in her hands and held it at the ready.

  “And what am I supposed to do now? I’ve been teaching my entire life. One stupid rumor and a visit to the school-board members ended my career. Those kids, my friends at the school, my classroom… all gone, thanks to you. You had no right to take my livelihood away from me!” The more I talked, the angrier I became.

  A noise sounded from a different room. We all stiffened and our heads snapped in the direction from where it came.

  “Doug?” Naomi yelled out, hope filling her eyes. No answer, but a cat sauntered into the room. Panic flashed across Naomi’s face.

  “Confess already. You left Mari to die in that ditch because you were jealous. You knew Mari and Doug still loved each other. Everyone at the celebration on the Fourth could see it plain as day. And you couldn’t handle it.” Tanya closed the gap.

  Naomi raised the vase above her head. “Fine. I’ll admit it. I tried to scare the Goody Two-shoes, and she ran off the road. What of it?” Her smug expression was more than I could take.

  “You admit to killing her!” Tanya pointed her finger in accusation.

  “I didn’t say any such thing. I only tried to threaten her. Drove fast behind her and overtook her. She ran off the road because she was a terrible driver. Not my fault.” Naomi shrugged.

  Tanya stepped forward. “How can you absolve yourself so easily?” Then Tanya gave Naomi a shove. Naomi fell back and tripped over the mules she’d kicked off earlier. Her arms flailed in the air, and the hand holding the vase drew back, landing square on Debbie’s head.

  Our gasps and screams followed the sound of shattering glass, and an “oomph” from Naomi as she landed on her back at Debbie’s feet.

  Debbie cringed as shards of glass fell like rain on her shoulders. She yelled out, grabbing her head as blood started to run down the side of her face like a waterfall.

  “Debbie!” Betty screamed and ran to her side, but not before Naomi flipped to her stomach and grabbed Debbie’s ankle, pulling her down to the floor. Naomi scrambled to hover over Debbie.

  Tanya lunged and grabbed Naomi by the waist, dragging her off Debbie and trying to pin her to the floor. The area where they struggled was tight—between the rear of the couch and a large bookcase. The two women churned on the ground, and as the fight continued, Betty pulled Debbie out from behind the couch and began searching her skull for the source of bleeding.

  “It’s just a scratch.” Debbie waved Betty away although blood continued to stream down her cheek. She pushed up from the floor to stand but wobbled, and her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell. Betty caught her before she hit the ground.

  “Just a scratch, my ass. Naomi knocked Debbie unconscious.” Betty dragged Debbie to a chair and propped her in it.

  Tanya was still straddling Naomi, pushing her face down into the carpet. “You lying, conniving tramp. You’re a murderer. Admit it!”

  I could hardly believe how strong and fierce Tanya was as she fought.

  Naomi kicked her bare feet on the ground, her red-tipped toes flailing up and down like a pedicured duck paddling water.

  I looked back at Debbie—still out cold. Betty fanned her and slapped her face but kept glancing over her shoulder toward Naomi and Tanya as they wrestled on the floor.

  Then Naomi bucked Tanya off and turned the tables, climbing on top and gaining the upper hand. She wrapped her fingers around Tanya’s throat, but Naomi didn’t hold back. Tanya’s eyes began to bulge as Naomi squeezed with all her strength. Tanya tried to scream but only a rasp escaped. “Josie, help.”

  Would Naomi really choke the life right out of her? Tanya was losing color fast, kicking and fighting with less strength by the second. I had to do something. I had to make it stop. She’d killed Mari, knocked out Debbie, and it looked as though Tanya would be her next victim. I grabbed a large trophy from the bookshelf beside me, then tested its weight in my hands. I held it by both handles, raised it high above me, and swung it down as hard as I could onto Naomi’s head.

  The sound of the trophy meeting her skull cracked like a clap of thunder. Naomi expelled air and let out a grunt as she fell down on top of Tanya.

  Tanya shoved her off and rolled away. She grasped her neck and coughed as she struggled to get to her hands and knees.

  I ran to Tanya’s side but kept an eye on Naomi. “Are you okay?” I pushed my glasses up on my nose with sweaty hands.

  “No.” Tanya rasped and coughed as she shook her head. She looked deep into my eyes. “But thank you, Josie. You saved my life.” Tears welled
up, but coughing didn’t allow her to talk any more.

  With the trophy still gripped tightly in my hand, ready if needed, I went to examine Naomi. She lay completely still. I pushed at her with the toe of my shoe. “Naomi?” Her eyes were open—rolled into the back of her head. I toed her again. “Naomi!” I yelled.

  Nothing.

  I let go of the trophy and it fell from my hands and bounced on the carpet. I stooped down to look closer at the unconscious woman and saw a puddle of blood forming under her head. I gasped and put my hands to my face as the room began to spin and my brain pulsed.

  “You guys. I think I killed Naomi.” I turned to look at my friends.

  Debbie had bled all over Naomi’s expensive chair, but was slowly coming around. Tanya was throwing up on the white carpet. And the only thing I knew before everything went blurry and I passed out was that I was going to fry for the murder of Naomi Waterman Talbot.

  Chapter 31

  The tension in the room made Gloria’s skin tingle. Josie unconscious, Debbie bleeding from the head, Tanya puking, and Naomi possibly dead—the vision Josie painted with her shaky words was making the women look like the common criminals lore had purported them to be.

  It sounded like they’d been defending each other, though, yet manslaughter was still a crime. These little old women—these sweet relics with thick glasses and age spots. It made Gloria uncomfortable. But now was no time to interrupt, and it would never be a time to give her opinion. She was a reporter. She had to stay neutral so she could get the whole story. But her sense of ethics warred with her hate for Naomi.

  Josie drank her water, then wiped at her nose with the tissue she fetched from up her sleeve. Their eyes met, and Gloria knew Josie wanted to get back to the story. Gloria readied her pen, gave a nod, and Josie began again.

  Josie Comes To—1974

  A dull ache drummed in my head with each heartbeat.

  Hands shook my shoulders. I struggled to open my eyes. Blurred faces looked down at me. Muffled voices seeped into my brain. I tried to make my friend’s faces come into focus.

 

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