“I’m tired, too,” he said.
He picked up the gym bag from off the floor by the front door where he’s dropped it coming into the house. They walked up the stairs together. It was doubly hard tonight to maintain their resolve to be chaste until their wedding night, but since that was less than a week away, they remained firm in their decision. It didn’t prevent them from indulging in several long, passionate kisses, however. Finally, they broke apart, said good night, and each went into their separate rooms.
Victoria clicked on the TV while she undressed. She couldn’t believe what a long day it had been, or how much she had been hit with that day. It was simply unreal, all the lies her mother had told her over the past several days, all the things that had been going on during the seven years she’d been in Seattle, all the things her dad hadn’t told her over the years. She knew that he was just trying to protect her, but now she wished he hadn’t.
It would have been easier to have learned these things little at a time through the years, rather than be hit with them all at once in two days. But she couldn’t fault her dad. She knew that he always did what he thought was the best thing for her. He couldn’t have known how life would turn out. More convinced than ever, she was certain that he had not committed suicide. He would have told her some of these things if he had planned on taking his own life. No, it had to have been murder. And it had to have been Marian.
Chapter Seven
Victoria climbed wearily into bed. She flipped channels on the TV until she found an old comedy movie. Maybe that would take her mind off of herself and her situation and help her to relax and get to sleep. She arranged her pillows so she could lay comfortably and yet see the TV screen, and then set the sleep timer on the TV remote so that it would shut itself off in ninety minutes. Within about ten minutes, she was able to get caught up in the plot of the movie and found herself laughing at the silliest of the characters. Then, during a long commercial break, she began to doze off.
But her sleep was troubled, and peppered with dreams of her crazed mother with a gun in her hand running here and there shooting her, her dad, and Lena. Had she been able to see herself, she would have known that she was turning her head back and forth, squirming around in the bed, and babbling out loud. But when, in her dreams, she saw Marian turn the gun on Rafael, she screamed, “No, no, no!”
Rafael was awakened again by her screams and rushed into her room to calm her down. He switched on the bedside lamp and sat down on the side of Victoria’s bed and shook her gently to wake her up. She awoke with a start and stared wild-eyed at Rafael. It took her a few seconds to realize that what she’d been seen was just a dream, and that both of them were actually safe.
“Nightmares again,” he asked gently as he took her in his arms and cradled her against his chest.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, clinging tightly to him. “What time is it?”
“One thirty-five,” he told her.
He wished he could just lie down beside her and hold her the remainder of the night. He just didn’t know if he could trust himself or not. So he just held her there for a few minutes until he felt her body relax. He wondered if she had gone back to sleep, but he couldn’t see her face. He remained still for a couple more minutes. She never moved. So he slowly and carefully laid her back down on her pillow. She sighed softly but didn’t awaken.
He sat there for another minute, just watching her sleep. He wished he could make the nightmares go away, but he didn’t know how. He could only hope that with time, they would go away on their own. Was it possible that he had only really met this woman four days ago? Or was it five? It seemed like at least four months. Of course, he had had her in his sights for nearly fifteen years, but when you’re a poor kid with a crush on the rich boss’s daughter, you can’t do anything about it.
Even all those years of chasing other women hadn’t obliterated Victoria’s image from his mind. He realized now that he was just treading water, waiting for the time when she would come to him. If she hadn’t run off to Seattle seven years ago, they could have been married by now. Maybe. And maybe this was the way things were supposed to work out. Well, except for the part about David Thornton being murdered. But maybe Victoria wouldn’t have been ready for him any sooner.
Well, there was no use playing the “what if” game. He needed to get back to sleep himself so he’d be able to function the next day. He stood up carefully so as not to disturb her, switched off the light, and tiptoed out of the room.
Victoria awakened the next morning shortly after six o’clock. That was a little later than usual for her, but then, the past several days had been anything but usual. She got up and got into the shower. The warm water pulsating over her body felt wonderful. As she stood there, bits and pieces of her dreams began to reform in her mind. She remembered her mother running around shooting everyone, and then Rafael carrying her away to a safe place.
She dressed, brushed her teeth, did her face and hair, made her bed, and then opened her door, wondering if Rafael was up yet. Just like the morning before, he was in the hallway bathroom doing his thing. She went downstairs to start the coffee. She wondered what Rafael would like for breakfast.
She was basically a cereal person. Occasionally she liked something else, but most of the time, she just wanted cereal. If she wanted hash browns and eggs or pancakes, she preferred to go out to eat. Although Lena’s waffles could bring her to breakfast any day of the week. She’d almost forgotten about Lena’s waffles. Seven years was a long time.
About the time the coffee was ready, Rafael came into the kitchen.
“Mornin’, beautiful,” he said, walking up to her and putting his arms around her. After a good morning kiss, she asked him what he wanted for breakfast.
“I don’t care,” he said. “A bowl of cold cereal is good enough for me. Maybe a slice of toast with it.”
She handed him a cup of coffee, and then opened the cupboard door where the cereal was kept. She named off all of the choices, and he told her which one he wanted. She poured two bowls of Cheerios and put them on the eating bar, one in front of Rafael, and the other at her place.
“Sugar? Honey? Banana?” she asked.
“I’d take a banana,” he said.
She handed him a banana and a sharp knife with which to cut it up. She also set the sugar bowl within reach. Then she got the milk out of the fridge and set it on the counter. She put two slices of bread into the toaster, got out the butter, peanut butter, honey, and jam and set them all within easy reach of where they would sit. When the toast popped up, she put each slice on a small plate and set them in front of their places at the eating counter. Then she sat down to eat.
They planned their day while eating breakfast. Rafael would go to work first and Victoria would go shopping for a new dress. She would meet him at the office at noon so they could go to the courthouse and buy the marriage license. Then he would go back to work, she would go visit Lena and her mother in the hospital, and finish her shopping, if need be.
Squeezed in there somewhere, Victoria would call her mother’s attorney and alert him to Marian’s situation. And call Lieutenant Mobry at the police station to see if they had had news, and to tell him that she would be gone the following week to Seattle. She hoped that was all, because that was as full a day as she wanted. She hoped that she didn’t have to allow time for any new surprises. She hoped for time enough this afternoon to actually cook a real meal for Rafael. She had taught herself to cook during her Seattle years. She wasn’t as good as Lena yet, but she thought she could put something together that wouldn’t kill him.
About seven-thirty, Rafael left for work. There really hadn’t been time for him to ask her about her nightmare, and she hadn’t volunteered anything. It could keep until the evening. Victoria cleaned up the kitchen, and swept and mopped the floor. When she dressed that morning, she realized that she was going to have to run a load of laundry. She had only packed enough for a few days, not realizing how long h
er stay would turn out to be. So she ran upstairs, got her dirty things, and took them downstairs to the laundry room. She didn’t have a full load, so she decided to go to her mother’s room and get her dirty clothes, too.
She entered the room with trepidation. It seemed like every time she had gone in there this week it had been an unpleasant experience. But surely this time it would be all right. She opened the hamper to see how much stuff was in there. There wasn’t much, just enough to make a full load with her own things. She carried the hamper downstairs and began putting the things into the washer. She had only put the two or three items in that were on the top when the thought occurred to her that maybe she shouldn’t wash these clothes.
What if one of these items was what Marian was wearing when she shot her husband? The police could check the garments for gunshot residue. She decided to leave them alone. The couple of items she’d already put in the machine were things her mother had worn the day before she went crazy, so she wasn’t concerned about washing them. She closed the hamper lid and set it by the inside garage door. When she called Lieutenant Mobry, she’d ask him if they wanted to inspect her mother’s clothing. If he did, she’d take the hamper down to them.
While the clothes washed, Victoria called Robert Kyte, her mother’s attorney. He told her that he had seen the news report of Marian’s standoff at her husband’s former office, and wondered when his services might be needed. He promised to take care of things and do what could be done for her. Victoria told him that Marian may have murdered David, which he was shocked to hear. He told her than Marian had called him the day before David died.
“She was quite angry, because she had just been served with divorce papers, and she wanted me to go after your father,” Mr. Kyte said. “I knew she was fit to be tied, but I’ve seen her like that before. I had no idea that she was angry enough to kill. But of course, it’s just speculation at this point, isn’t it, Miss Thornton? You have no proof of anything, do you?”
“No, not yet,” Victoria admitted. “But the police are investigating.”
“If they charge Mrs. Thornton with a crime, be sure and let me know,” he said.
“I will. And thank you, Mr. Kyte,” Victoria said, ending the call.
Next, she called Lieutenant Mobry to see what he had learned. He told her that the DNA test results wouldn’t be back for weeks. The police lab had such a backlog of testing to do, that they’d be lucky to hear anything back for a couple of months. She told him about her mother’s dirty clothes and asked him if he wanted to check them for gunshot residue. He did. She told him that she would bring hamper and all down to him sometime that morning. He gave her directions to a back door where it would be better for her to bring the clothes.
“Call me from your cell phone when you are out there, and I’ll come out and get them,” he instructed her.
“All right,” she said.
There. That was one more thing to check of her to-do list for the day. She went to the laundry room and put the wet clothes into the dryer. While she was waiting for the clothes to dry, she went into the kitchen to decide what to have for supper that evening and what she would need to buy.
After considerable debate, she settled on stroganoff, green beans, and garlic bread. She’d whip up a pineapple upside down cake for dessert. She had seen a cake mix in the cupboard yesterday, and was pretty sure there was a can of sliced pineapple, too. In fact, she could get that down while the clothes dried and put them away.
She hurriedly got out the cake mix, the canned pineapple, brown sugar, eggs, butter, and maraschino cherries. She found an oblong baking pan and put in a generous spoonful of butter and a big scoop of brown sugar. She set it on a stove burner and turned it on low. She got out a mixing bowl and dumped the pineapple cake mix into it. She added the juice from the canned pineapple plus enough water to make the right amount, eggs, and oil.
She turned her attention back to the melting butter and sugar, stirring it with a wooden spoon. Then she got out the electric mixer and began beating the cake batter. She turned off the burner with one hand while holding the mixer with the other. When the batter was thoroughly beaten, she placed the pineapple slices in the melted sugar/butter combination in the baking pan. Inside each circle of pineapple, she placed a maraschino cherry. Then she carefully poured the batter on top. Popping it into the oven, she set the time for thirty minutes.
That done, she turned her attention back to her dinner plans. There were noodles, onions, garlic, and mushroom soup. But she’d have to buy some meat for the stroganoff. Then she had a thought. While living in Seattle, she had been exposed to a version of vegetarian cooking that rather intrigued her.
People in the Northwest had some different ideas about foods, and many of them were either vegetarian or vegan. She had learned about tofu, and some other vegetarian meat substitutes, and had really liked them. She wondered if she dared try it on Rafael. She decided to go for it. If he liked it, fine. If he didn’t, fine. But at least he’d get a new idea of who she had become.
She made a grocery list of what she’d need.
Whipping cream
Tofu or Vege-cutlettes
Green beans
Milk
Garlic bread
She thought a moment, and then checked for the availability of some other staples.
Bread
Butter
Muffins
Dishwasher soap
Mayo
Herb tea
Yeah, that was plenty. They were only going to be there for a few more days. Although Lena would be home, too, and she may not feel like going out for groceries for a few more days.
She checked the walk-in pantry for supplies of toilet paper and paper towels. There was plenty for a couple of weeks, maybe more. Her cell phone rang just then. Caller ID displayed Harry’s name and number. She sighed. She may as well answer and get it over with.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Victoria. This is Harry.”
“Hi, Harry. How’re you doing?”
“I’ve been missing you, Victoria. When are you coming home?”
“I’m not going back to Seattle, Harry, except long enough to get my things. I’m moving back to LA.”
“You are? But why?”
“It’s a very long, long story, Harry. Suffice it to say that my father is dead, my mother is under arrest for assault, and I am needed here. Besides that, I realized that I miss LA and I want to be here.”
“But what about us?” His voice took on a whiny tone that rubbed Victoria the wrong way.
“There is no ‘us,’ Harry,” Victoria said firmly. “We had some nice times, but there was, there is, no us.”
“If that’s the way you feel about it, I guess I have nothing more to say to you,” Harry said in a hurt voice.
“I’m sorry, Harry, but that’s the way it is,” she said.
“Goodbye, Victoria. Have a nice life,” Harry said.
“Bye, Harry. You, too,” Victoria said.
She kind of felt bad for him, but she had planned to dump him even before all this happened. At least it was over with, and she’d been able to do it long distance rather than face to face.
The dryer buzzer sounded, so she went into the laundry room to put away the clean clothes. She scooped everything out of the dryer and carried the pile upstairs to her room. She separated her mother’s few things out from hers, and then either folded or hung everything up. She looked around her bedroom. She had a lot of history in this room. It had been her room her entire childhood. She had never lived anywhere else until she moved to Seattle. What would she do with this house? Should she keep it? Or sell it?
She glanced at her watch. Time to check on the cake. She ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. She carefully opened the oven door, pulling back when the escaping heat hit her in the face. She gently poked the center of the cake with one finger. The depression made by her finger popped right back up, signaling that the cake was done. Using oven mitts, s
he took the cake out of the oven and set it down on top of the stove. Then she rooted around in the cupboards for a large platter. After letting the cake set for a couple of minutes, she placed the platter on top of the cake pan and with one swift motion turned the pan upside down so that the cake went onto the platter. She left the cake pan over the cake because it was too hot to cover it with plastic wrap or foil.
She put all the dirty utensils into the dishwasher. Looking at her to-do list and then her watch, she saw that it was high time she get to town and start looking for a dress. She double-checked to see that the oven was turned off, and then went upstairs to get ready to leave. Coming back downstairs, she set the alarm, and then picked up the hamper and went to the garage. She put the hamper in the back seat, and then got into the driver’s seat.
When she was approaching the rear of the police station, she called Lieutenant Mobry to tell him that she was there. But the time she figured out which door he wanted her to come to, he was opening it. She stopped the car, got out, and opened the back door.
“This is it,” she said, indicating the hamper sitting on the back seat. “I don’t know if you’ll find anything useful in it or not, but I thought you should check anyway.”
“Certainly,” he said, reaching in the car to get the hamper.
“I hope you don’t mind rifling through the dirty clothes,” she said.
“I’ve handled much worse things,” he said wryly.
“I suppose you have.”
“Call me when you’re through with them, and I’ll come back and pick them up,” Victoria told him. “Will you want me to come to this same door?”
“Yes, come back here again and I’ll bring them out to you,” he said. “I should be through with them by this afternoon. It doesn’t take long to test for gunshot residue. We have the capability to do this right here, so we don’t have to send out for testing. I’ll put a rush on these.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant, I appreciate your efforts,” Victoria said.
The Perfect Revenge: The Couplete Series Page 22