Live and Let Die

by Bianca Sloane

  Cindy was puzzled by Paula’s calm, eerie demeanor, which was so different from the other day. “Paula… is there anything else you need?”

  Paula tilted her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Well, it’s just that the other day, you seemed so upset and I was wondering if you’d like to talk about it.”

  “Cindy, you should really mind your own business.”

  “Like I told you the other day, I can help you. If you need to get away from your husband—”

  “I’m perfectly fine.” She paused. “The milk?”

  Cindy sighed, defeated. “Fine. Come in.”

  Paula closed the door behind her and followed Cindy to the kitchen. Cindy went to open the refrigerator when she stopped. “Oh. Damn,” she said as she smacked her forehead. She leaned over to open a drawer. “I forgot to take the ADP,” she said as she pulled out a small blue plastic pouch. Paula watched in silence as Cindy popped a tiny white pill out of the foil casing. Her face lit up as she realized what it was.

  “Oh!” she said, excited. “We take the same vitamins.”

  Cindy held her coffee mug in mid-air. “Vitamin?”

  Paula nodded. “Yes. Vitamins. Phillip gives me the same kind each morning. I guess they must not be working as well since I’ve been feeling a little run down lately.”

  Cindy lowered her coffee and birth control pill on the counter, never taking her eyes off Paula. “Paula,” she whispered. “Those are birth control pills. They keep you from getting pregnant—ADP. Anti-daddy pill?”

  Paula shook her head, a smile creeping onto her face. “Nooo, they’re vitamins. My husband is a pharmacist. I think he would know the difference between vitamins and those, those, things you’re talking about.” She sniffed. “Maybe you need a new pharmacist.”

  Cindy fought to keep from crying as she realized Paula really had no idea what she was talking about. She tried again. “Paula,” she said as she placed her hands on her neighbor’s shoulders. “Those tiny little pills are birth control. Birth control. They are not vitamins.”

  Paula’s gaze drifted from the counter to Cindy’s pleading stare. She shook her head slowly at first, then more rapidly as what Cindy was saying started to set in. “No. No, that’s not right. I can’t have children. I’m unable to have children. Why would he give me a pill to keep me from having children if I can’t?”

  “Paula,” Cindy whispered in an earnest and deliberate tone. “Maybe he told you that, and gives you the birth control pills so that it will be true.”

  Paula slapped Cindy’s hands off her shoulders. “You stop that. Stop it! Phillip loves me and he would never lie to me.”

  “Paula, please calm down—”

  “He, he… he saved my life! He loves me.”

  Cindy could see Paula was whipping herself into a frenzy. “Okay, Paula, maybe I was wrong—”

  Paula pointed a trembling finger in Cindy’s face. “That’s right. You are wrong. And a liar. You stay away from me!”

  Enraged, Paula threw open the front door of Cindy’s house and sprinted across the street to her own home.

  “Paula, wait!” Cindy called out as she ran to catch up with her.

  Paula spun around, shooting daggers at Cindy. “You stay away from me. You’re evil. Don’t you ever come near me again.”

  Cindy tried to grasp Paula’s flailing hands with her own. “Paula, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Why don’t you come back over and we’ll have a cup of coffee, talk about this.”

  Cindy tried to put an arm around Paula’s shoulders and steer her back across the street. Grunting, Paula shoved Cindy, who went flying and stumbled, just barely recovering before she landed in the street.

  “Stay away from me,” Paula said before she turned and ran home.

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  “How long do you think before he finds Phillip?”

  Sondra sipped her coffee and shrugged. “Depends on if he’s drunk or not. He tends to work better smashed from what I’ve been told.”

  Sondra and Cicely were having lunch before Sondra left for the airport to head back to New York.

  “Sounds like you’ve found the right guy for the job. And the police haven’t tracked him down?”

  “Not that I know of. Well, I should say I called the detective on the case and she said they were still trying to find him. Honestly? I don’t think they care.”

  “Oh, trust me, they care. Especially when it gets out.”

  “I appreciate you keeping this quiet. I know you can’t forever, but, I just—”

  Cicely broke in. “One of the investigative reporters at the station got a whiff of what’s going on.”

  Sondra looked up at the ceiling and let out a rumbling sigh. “What happened?”

  Cicely gulped her iced tea. “He came sniffing around my desk last night. Said he’d heard some whispers about Tracy’s disappearance while hanging around a diner that the cops frequent. I played dumb, but he’s asking a lot of questions and it won’t be long before he starts piecing things together and this whole thing blows wide open.”

  Sondra started to nibble on her forefinger, breaking the all-too familiar seal, salty blood seeping into her mouth. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “Phillip could see it and he could run and then we’ll never find him. Or I’ll find him and he’ll change his story. Whatever the hell it is.”

  “I’m so sorry. Sorry about all of this.”

  Sondra smiled, clasped Cicely’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She leaned back and sighed. “I guess all I do now is wait for the shit to hit the fan.”

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  Paula slammed the door shut behind her as Cindy’s dreadful words replayed themselves in her ears.

  “It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true.” Paula dropped to the floor and rolled into a ball in the corner of her living room, repeating the phrase to herself over and over again. She was drenched in sweat and her heart thumped against her chest like a metronome on high.

  Phillip loved her. He’d kept her from going to jail. He’d taken care of her. He was always honest with her. Hadn’t he told her she shouldn’t trust other people because the world was full of liars? Paula wiped her hand across her face, a trail of snot spreading across her cheek. She would just never talk to that horrible Cindy Cross woman again. She should have listened to Phillip when he told her it wasn’t a good idea to allow others into her world. Yes. She should focus solely on her wifely duties and on her husband. Feeling better now that she was refocused, Paula pulled herself up and went to sort some laundry.

  FIFTY-NINE

  When the shit hit the fan, no one could escape the splatter. Cicely had called Sondra that morning to let her know that Rick Jones, investigative reporter for Channel Four, was running with the story about Carol and Tracy on that night’s ten p.m. news. Carol’s family had hired an attorney who would be speaking their behalf in the piece and confirming they would be bringing suit against the police department. The jungle drums said they’d been in contact with the rabble-rousing community activist, Joe Johnson. Cicely warned her it wouldn’t be long before the national media picked up the thread and the whole thing would become a powder keg. Sondra thanked Cicely and determined she would lay low for a while and hope Nicky found Phillip first.

  It was dusk and she had drawn all of her drapes, shrouding her apartment in darkness. She’d been chain-smoking for hours as she rambled aimlessly from room to room, the low hum of the TV droning in the background. Sondra had just stubbed out what was probably her millionth cigarette of the day and was about to light up another when her cell phone rang.

  “This better not be fucking CNN,” she mumbled as she looked at the caller id. The number was blocked and she was about to let it keep ringing when it occurred to her it might be Nicky.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Yooooo. What’s up?”

  Sondra wanted to kiss herself for answering the phone. “Nicky.
” Sondra swallowed then took a deep breath. “So? What’d you find out?”

  “He’s going by the name of Pierce now. Phillip Pierce. Married to a lady named Paula.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Oh, yeah. It was a little tricky, but I am fo’ sho’ baby.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Livin’ in St. Louis. He works for a clinic as a pharmacist. Wife stays home. No kids. Shitload of cash in the bank.”

  “Do you have an address? A phone number?”

  “You know it baby. You got a pen?”

  Sondra fumbled in the darkened apartment in search of a pen and paper. “Okay, shoot.”

  Nicky gave Sondra all of Phillip’s information, including his unlisted phone number, work and home addresses and work schedule.

  “Goddamn, you are good,” Sondra said, shaking her head.

  “You know how I do.”

  “Next time you’re in New York, let me buy you a drink.”

  “Yeah, man, I would be down. I’ll hit you when I’m in town. Bring G, too.”

  “Oh, the stories that would come out of that night. Listen, Nicky, I gotta go, but definitely, call me when you’re in town.”

  “You got it baby. Tell G I can’t wait ‘til Cabooooo!”

  The phone went dead and Sondra could only laugh at Nicky. She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, feeling triumphant. She’d come this far; she just had to go a little further.

  Sondra shook herself back to the business at hand. “Alright, flight to St. Louis,” she said as she pulled up the American Airlines website on her laptop. Her phone rang again and groaning, she answered without looking to see who it was.

  “Yeah?” she said, annoyed.

  “Sondra? It’s Kevin. Henderson.”

  “Oh, hi. I’m sorry. You caught me at a weird time. I’m on my way to St. Louis.”

  “St. Louis?”

  Sondra put the phone on speaker so she could tap out flight information. “My ex-husband, Gary, is, strangely enough, friends with a bounty hunter. Nicky. Anyway, I asked Nicky to find Phillip and he did and I’m on my way there now.”

  “Wow. It’s really him? I mean, he couldn’t have made a mistake?”

  “Nicky doesn’t make mistakes.”

  “I want to be there.”

  “What?”

  “I want to know why he did this, why—”

  “No, no way. This is between me and him.”

  “I’m in this too. I can meet you in St. Louis, probably make it there before you.”

  Sondra snorted. “Considering I’ll likely be going out of LaGuardia, you’re probably right.”

  “I’ll book the flight now. I could even drive down.”

  “Kevin, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to stay out of this.”

  “I’m just as involved as you are. More.”

  Sondra kneaded the skin of her forehead like it was pizza dough before she looked up and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I have to do this alone.”

  Before he could say another word, Sondra hung up.

  SIXTY

  “Bottoms up.”

  Paula looked at Phillip standing in front of her, brandishing her daily dose of vitamins. She smiled and opened her mouth so that Phillip could place the tiny blue pill and the larger blue one into her tongue. She took a huge swallow of orange juice.

  “What’s for lunch today?” he asked as she handed him his large lunch bag.

  “Oh, dear, you’re so funny. The same as every Friday: tuna on whole wheat, tomato soup in a thermos, cheese and crackers and a slice of chocolate cake.”

  “Well, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget. You’ve been quite forgetful lately.”

  “Oh, I think I might be coming down with the flu.” She put her arms around him. “Have a good day, dear.” Phillip walked out the door and she waited until she heard his car pull out of the driveway. She peeked out the front window to make sure he was gone before she walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. She swirled the tip of her tongue behind her bottom teeth and produced the two pills Phillip had given her. She spit them out into her hand and looked at the melting mass of blue in her palm. She put her hand under the faucet until the water carried the powder blue gunk down the drain. She flipped on the garbage disposal as an extra precaution. Clearing her throat, Paula went to grab her yellow mop bucket and fill it up with disinfectant.

  SIXTY-ONE

  She was so friendly.

  A real chatterbox. But not that it annoyed you, but rather made you want to listen. Drew you in. And always with a smile on her face. Always so full of questions: “hi, how are you today?” or “how’s everything going?” “what’s new in your world?” And so eager to talk about herself.

  So forthcoming.

  That’s how he knew about the dog. She’d shown him pictures of her trusty chocolate lab, bragged about how nice and friendly he was, that even people who didn’t like dogs loved Rusty.

  It took him a little over an hour to get out to Hyde Park. All day, the snow had come down in a steady cascade and the roads were a muddle of salt, ice, and slush. He drove behind a salt truck, which helped. Finally, he pulled up in front of her townhouse and waited. She had mentioned in one conversation what time she usually walked the dog. He looked at his watch. Should be any minute now. If not he would have to come back tomorrow and he didn’t want to have to do that since his in-laws were scheduled to fly in then and who knew what the weather was going to do. When he saw her door open and her silhouette appear just behind her dog, he’d gotten so excited, he accidentally beeped his horn.

  Fumbling to open his car door, he put his boot into the mush below, careful to ease his way out. It was quiet, snow the only force capable of silencing the city. He watched her slip and slide over the icy sidewalk as she tried to keep her dog from darting away from her in his glee at being outside. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he whistled softly as he approached her.

  “Carol?”

  She whipped around and even in the dim glow of the streetlights and blowing snow, he could see a glimmer of fear in her eyes. “Do I know you?”

  He laughed. “It’s me, Phillip. Your pharmacist.”

  Her internal guards slithered away the instant she realized it was a friendly face in front of her. “Oh, my goodness, I didn’t realize it was you. How did you know it was me?”

  He bent down and began to scratch behind Rusty’s ears, who moaned in appreciation. “You know, I’ve heard so much about this guy, I feel like I know him already.” He straightened up and looked at her.

  “I recognized your coat. It’s very distinctive,” he said, gesturing to the sky blue and black houndstooth coat she wore.

  She tightened her grip on Rusty’s leash. He sensed her apprehension. “Oh. I didn’t realize you lived around here.”

  He smiled. “I don’t.”

  Carol looked back towards the house. He knew she was wondering if anyone would come to her aid if she screamed. “So what are you doing out on a night like this?”

  “Looking for you.”

  Carol took a step backwards, tugging on the cracked, red leather leash as she did. “Listen, I have to go. Have a good night,” she said, her voice rupturing. She tried to yank the dog back in the direction of the house, but Phillip grabbed the leash and held it.

  “Where are you going?”

  She licked her lips. “My husband will be looking for me. We really need to go.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “No, Carol, I don’t think so.”

  In one fell swoop, Phillip lunged at Carol, who yelped as he grabbed her by the waist with one hand and clamped his other across her mouth. Rusty sat on his hind legs, his head cocked to the side, just staring at them. Phillip looked over at Rusty.

  “If you scream, I’ll kill your dog.”

  Her cries gurgled in her throat.

  Phillip dragged Carol in the direction of his car. “I don’t want your money and I’m
not going to rape you. We have to take a little trip.”

  She shook her head.

  Phillip had unlocked the door with his remote and pulled Carol over to the driver’s side. “Slide over to the passenger side.” She hesitated.

  “That’s a really long leash. Just long enough to strangle a friendly, unsuspecting dog.”

  Her eyes pleaded with him. “Please. Please. Don’t. I’m begging you.”

  “Then move over.”

  Whimpering, she did as she was told and Phillip got behind the wheel.

  “Put your hands in front of you.”

  “If I do what you say, will you let me go?”

  “I said, put your hands in front of you.”

  She hesitated a moment before she complied and placed her hands in front of her. He ripped a piece of duct tape from a roll stuffed in the pocket of his coat and cut it with the blade of his Army knife before he jerked it around her delicate wrists. He followed suit with another piece that he slapped over her mouth. Satisfied, he started the car and let it warm up for a few minutes.

  “Get down,” he said. “On the floor. Get down.”

  Tears streaming down her face, she looked out the window at Rusty once more, who hadn’t moved, before she struggled to crouch down into the tiny space between the seat and the dash. They drove in silence. The roads were still like an Icee and he had to stay focused in order not to crash. He was surprised she hadn’t put up more of a struggle. He decided she was one of those submissive types, figuring if she just did what she was told, he would let her go, unharmed. Muffled sobs floated up from where she was wedged and for a moment, he felt bad. He never wanted any of this. But he had to do it. He loved Tracy. If he could just take her away from all those distractions. It had to be done.

  This was the only way.

  He caught another salt truck on the way back North, which made the trip to Belmont Harbor easier. He eased his car into the marina parking lot and turned it off. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Quickly, he opened the driver’s side door and ran over to the passenger side. He wrenched her out of the car and brought her around to the trunk, keeping his arm fastened around her waist. He used his remote to pop open the trunk and reached in to grab the small black duffel bag lodged in one dark corner. She was still crying and all he could think was how he would be glad when this was over. Clutching her arm with one hand, he dragged her over to the snack shack that sold ice cream and hot dogs in the summer, but now stood boarded up and empty. He shoved her against the side of the building facing the lake. He pulled his Swiss Army knife back out of his coat pocket and flicked it open. The blade glistened, cutting a swatch of light against the fluffy bits of white snow swirling around them.