by Kira Chase
“Too late for that,” Gretchen said, bending and grabbing a fistful of Frankie’s hair and yanking it. “On your feet, bitch!”
Frankie winced in pain, but held tightly to her gun and with her free arm jabbed her elbow back. She heard Gretchen grunt.
“That was pretty stupid of you. Drop your gun now,” Gretchen demanded. “I should slit your throat right now.”
Frankie felt the sharp point of the knife prick the side of her neck. She sucked in her breath. She had to keep her cool or Gretchen would kill all of them.
“I said drop the gun!”
Frankie tossed the gun on the floor then gave it a sharp kick and it went skidding across the kitchen floor. Maybe Gracelyn would be able to reach it. If Gretchen tried to go for the gun it might give Frankie a chance to disarm the knife.
“Gretchen, please don’t hurt her,” Johanna cried. “If there’s any shred of decency left in you then you won’t hurt her.”
Gretchen laughed shrilly. “You should hear yourself, Jo. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slice her from ear to ear?”
Johanna shook violently. “You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison. Please put the knife down. We’ll work this out.”
“Gretchen, think about it. Johanna’s right,” Gracelyn called. “What do you think they’d do to an ex-police officer in prison?”
Gretchen grew rigid. “That was quite a performance you put on for my benefit the other night, Gracelyn. Or was what some of what you said about Frankie true? You told me that you were thrilled that Johanna was rid of that…what did you call her? Oh yes, that white hillbilly trailer trash.”
“Francine, please forgive me. You know I didn’t really mean it.”
“I know,” Frankie replied. She was too close to get a kick or jab at Gretchen. The woman had let go of her hair and now had an arm tightly around her throat with the sharp tip of the knife resting against the side of her neck. One false move and the blade could be plunged into her neck. She had to think. Time was running out. If George didn’t show up soon it could mean a bloodbath for the three of them. She swallowed hard. “Gretchen, why do you want to kill me? You don’t even know me. Just tell me what I’ve personally done to you to make you dislike me so much.”
“You’ve ruined everything! All I needed was some money and I would have been out of here. But, no, you had to talk Jo into setting me up!”
Frankie took a deep breath. “Listen to me for a minute. Your plan had no chance of succeeding. Johanna doesn’t have the kind of money you need to settle with your investors.” She felt Gretchen slightly sway and was careful not to move. The knife was still pressed against her neck and one false move could plunge it inside. “This place is mortgaged up to our ears. Even if we had put it on the market, with the economy the way it is now, we wouldn’t even get a fraction of what we’ve put into it. Then minus what we owe the bank and you’re looking at very little.”
“If she liquidated all your assets it would have been enough to shut them up for awhile until I figured something else out to get my hands on some money.”
Frankie vigilantly held her body perfectly still as she spoke. “Everything is in both of our names. She can’t sell any of our properties without my signature just as I can’t without hers.”
“I already figured that obstacle out. Why the hell do you think I’m here?” She snorted. “Not a very good detective if you ask me. It’s obvious since you two dotted all the Is and crossed all the Ts that you would have everything set up with right of survivorship in the event of an untimely death of one of you.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Frankie asked quietly.
Gretchen’s brow puckered. “Now just what am I forgetting?” she hissed closed to Frankie’s ear. “Tell me,” she said as she playfully pricked Frankie’s neck with the point of the knife.
Frankie winced.
“Please, Gretchen, stop!” Johanna sobbed. “She’s bleeding.”
“I’m okay, Johanna,” Frankie said softly. “I’ll be okay.”
“Don’t count on it,” Gretchen said with a slight laugh in her voice. “Now, tell me what I’m missing.”
Frankie sucked in some air. She had to find a way to stall Gretchen until George and Arlan got here. She figured they were stuck out on the highway in the traffic jam. It could be hours before they got here and she didn’t know how long she could stall this lunatic. “Like I already said, in this economy it could take months or even more than a year to liquidate our assets even if one of us were to die. And most of it would end up going to the bank anyway to pay off the mortgage and our other combined debts. Most importantly, though, how would you keep Johanna and Gracelyn subdued while you waited for the payoff?”
“Shut up!” Gretchen yelled. “I need to think! What about life insurance? You both must be heavily insured.”
“There would be an investigation,” Frankie said flatly.
“Not if you vanished with no body ever found.”
“The insurance company would hold the policy for several years before declaring me officially dead.” She wanted to shove the earlier snide remark about her investigative skills down her throat. She had no plan and was spewing a load of garbage. She was a trapped caged animal and she knew it. But still, Frankie knew she had to bite her tongue or the psycho would dive off the deep end and kill all of them and probably kill herself in the end. That’s what the weaklings always did. They couldn’t face prosecution for their dastardly deeds and always took the chicken’s way out.
Gretchen loosened her grip. Frankie searched Johanna’s eyes, but could read nothing in them. All she could see was fear and then in a flash Johanna dove for the gun.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jo,” Gretchen warned. “It won’t take too much pressure to shove this knife into her scrawny neck.
Johanna retreated. “Please, Gretchen, if I ever meant anything to you, let her go. I’ll talk to the DA and try to get your sentence reduced.”
“My reputation would be destroyed. No, if I pay off the investors and close down the company no one will be the wiser.”
“Weren’t you planning to leave the country, Gretchen? The sheriff knows. I gave him the evidence this morning,” Johanna stated. “And then, of course, Savannah Granger will give a statement. There’s no way out, Gretchen. If you harm Frankie it’ll only get worse for you. Then you’ll have another murder rap added to your charges.”
Gretchen’s eyes turned into two dark slits. “What do you mean another murder rap?” she demanded.
Johanna threw her hands up. “Everything we talked about last night is now in the hands of the sheriff and the proper authorities in California. I’m not playing your sick mind games any more. You’re not in control. It’s over. Make it easier on yourself and put the knife down.”
Frankie’s jaw dropped. She had no clue what Johanna was doing, but whatever it was she hoped it worked. If not she was only fueling an already explosive situation.
“You stupid bitch!” Gretchen hissed as she glared at Johanna. “How could you do that to me?” Her hand trembled on the knife.
Frankie squeezed her eyes tightly shut as pain gripped her where the tip of the knife penetrated her neck. “Johanna, please stay calm,” she said as she peered at her. “Tell her you didn’t mean what you just said.”
Johanna’s hand flew to her mouth as she looked in horror at the blood trickling from Frankie’s neck. “Please, Gretchen, I’m begging you not to hurt her.”
Frankie watched as Gracelyn slowly crept from behind the island toward the gun. She needed to distract Gretchen, but it was too late.
“Gracelyn, get over by Jo right now. If you make one move I’ll slit Frankie’s throat in front of you.” She glanced around the room. She motioned toward the pantry. “Get in there now! Both of you. Don’t come out until I tell you to. If you do, she dies,” she said as she inched her way toward the mudroom still holding tightly to Frankie.
As Gracelyn and Johanna bac
ked toward the pantry door, Frankie’s eyes met Johanna’s. The haunting sad look in her lover’s eyes seized Frankie’s heart. All color had drained from Johanna’s beautiful face and Frankie knew that Johanna was carrying a heavy weight on her heart.
“It’s not your fault, baby,” she said.
“You’re bleeding, Frankie,” she choked.
“It’ll be okay,” Frankie whispered. “Just remember that I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Johanna sobbed.
“It’ll be okay. I love you,” Gretchen mimicked. “No, it won’t be okay. Get your goodbyes over with. This is the last time you’ll see her alive, Jo.”
Johanna, with tears streaming down her cheeks, slowly shook her head. “Don’t do it, Gretchen. Please. Take me instead.”
“No,” Gracelyn said through her tears. “I’m the one who gave her your address. I’m an old woman and you two have your whole lives ahead of you.”
“Excuse me, but I’m the only one who’s going to decide who lives or who dies and I choose you!” she snarled as she poked the knife again into Frankie’s neck.
Frankie was numb from the pain and felt herself sway. She knew that no vital artery had been punctured, but for the first time she feared her own death. She looked at Johanna wondering if she’d ever hold her again or make love to her again. Images of them in happy times drifted through her mind and gave her a sense of comfort. She knew that if she died at this very moment she knew she’d been loved. Her life had been good even if it was to be cut short. She mouthed the words I love you to Johanna again.
“Get in there and shut the door. If either of you come out you’ll get the same as Frankie’s going to get now.”
After the pantry door closed Gretchen roughly turned Frankie and shoved her toward the mudroom and then to the back door. Frankie’s hand shook as her fingers stiffly unlatched the storm door.
“Hurry up,” Gretchen ordered impatiently.
Frankie pushed the door open and started down the steps. A sharp gust of wind blew the door back catching Gretchen off-guard. As she stumbled forward, still clutching Frankie with one arm, the hand that held the knife slipped and the blade moved down Frankie’s neck. The agonizing pain almost immobilized her.
Gretchen regained her balance, placed the palm of her hand in the middle of Frankie’s back, and pushed. Frankie cautiously eased her body down the last step. Even though her pain was unbearable she still tried to keep her focus. She wanted to live. She deserved to live and she would fight back. She racked her brain trying to come up with an escape plan, but with her arm once again twisted behind her back and the knife now angled near her throat, her options were slim. One false move and the knife would be plunged into her throat. She took small deliberate steps not daring to move too fast in fear of slipping. Even though her sensible mind told her it was over, she refused to give up hope. She wouldn’t let Gretchen see her fear. That would be a mistake. “Where are we going?” she asked, slowly pausing after each word because every time she spoke, the knife moved.
“Not far. It’ll all be over soon,” she hissed as she shoved Frankie in the direction of the garage. “Behind the garage now.”
They inched their way through the deep snow now crusty with the ice pellets on top of it. The ice storm had stopped and the temperature had risen a few degrees. A light drizzle was falling and Frankie knew that once dusk arrived the roads would be almost impassible when the rain froze. When they were directly behind the garage Gretchen yanked on Frankie’s jacket. “Stop!”
Frankie kept her body straight as Gretchen released her jacket aware that the knife was still aimed at her. “What are you going to do to me?” She tried to estimate exactly where Gretchen had placed her feet. One quick strategically placed kick could send Gretchen sprawling and hopefully give Frankie enough time to get back into the house to retrieve her gun.
“You’ll find out soon enough. I’ll bet you’re sorry now that you ever got involved with Jo,” she taunted. “If you hadn’t, you never would have met me and you wouldn’t be in the predicament you now find yourself. You’d be safe and sound. She’s bad news.”
“I’ll never be sorry for my life with Johanna.”
“You’re even more delusional and stupid than I thought then.” She sighed restlessly. “Well, there’s no sense putting this off any longer. Let’s get it over with.”
“Yes, let’s, but can I ask you one more question before you kill me, Gretchen?” Before Gretchen could respond, Frankie tilted her head back and at the same time swiftly shifted her boot-clad foot, raised it and with all her strength brought it back against Gretchen’s knee.
Gretchen yelped and dropped the knife as they tumbled to the ground. Her hand lost its grip on Frankie’s jacket. Frankie scrambled to her feet. Gretchen grabbed her pant leg and tried to pull her back down. She grabbed the knife, which had fallen near her, and still clinging to Frankie’s pant leg, got to her knees. Panting, she raised herself to her feet. Frankie tried to run, but Gretchen was like a wild woman and lunged at her. Frankie heard her nylon jacket tear as the knife shredded it. Her bulky sweater didn’t stop the blade from making a path down her back. She was numb with pain but knew she couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t let Gretchen win.
No. I won’t die this way. She mustered all of her strength and started running toward the house. Gretchen stuck out a foot, which sent Frankie sprawling on her back. “Don’t do this, Gretchen,” she gasped. “You won’t get away with it.”
Frankie watched as a wild-eyed Gretchen raised the knife. A tear slid from her eye as she realized that she had no more options. Time had run out. She closed her eyes waiting for the final blow that would snuff out her life forever
A shot rang out startling her. She popped her eyes open and watched as though in slow motion as Gretchen began to fall. She rolled out of the way as Gretchen fell face down. Gretchen dug in the snow with her hands and brought herself slowly to her knees, then squatted as she reached for the fallen knife.
“Stay where you are!” Kate Allen ordered. “Throw the knife in front of you and then turn around with your arms behind you!”
Gretchen tossed the knife in front of herself then slowly turned.
Kate Allen kept her gun trained on Gretchen as another deputy cuffed her and read her rights to her.
“She attacked me!” Gretchen screamed. “You’ll be sorry. I’ll sue the pants off the department. You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”
The deputy ignored her as he and Kate led Gretchen to the patrol car. Kate nodded to Frankie. “I’ll get the paramedics here. Looks like she’s cut you badly.”
Arlan Patel and George Ryker pulled up, jumped out of the sheriff’s car, said something to Deputy Allen, then rushed over to Frankie. Arlan knelt down next to her. “Where’s Johanna and her mother? Are they okay?”
Frankie nodded. “They’re in the house. In the pantry.”
“I’ll go get them,” George said.
* * * *
Gracelyn clung to Johanna. “Did Gretchen take the gun?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied in a wobbly voice. “I’ve got to get out of here, Mom. I need to help Frankie. You stay here and I’ll see if Frankie’s gun is still in the kitchen. If not, I’ll get mine. I have to do something.”
“What if Gretchen took her gun?” A tear slid from her eye. “What if—”
“Don’t say it, Mom,” Johanna sobbed. “If Frankie’s gun’s not there I’ll get mine out of the safe. Just think positive thoughts.”
They heard the back door open. Johanna’s heart lurched as her mother put her arms around her and held her tightly. Neither said a word as they awaited their fate.
Johanna’s heart almost stopped as she heard the heavy footsteps walk through the mudroom and then into the kitchen. They stopped outside of the pantry room door. Nausea overcame her and she swallowed hard as she clung to her mother. “I love you, Mom, and I’m so sorry,” she cried.
“Johanna, are you in h
ere?” George Ryker called.
Johanna was silent for a few seconds as it slowly sank into her mind that they were safe. Relief flooded through her. “It’s the sheriff, Mom. We’re safe.” Her eyes clouded again. “What about Frankie!” She flung open the door. Her eyes searched George’s. “Where’s Frankie?” she cried.
George shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She’s been hurt, Johanna. The paramedics are on their way.”
Tears streamed from Johanna’s eyes. “Was she shot? We heard a gunshot.”
“No. Deputy Allen fired a shot at Gretchen. It wasn’t serious, though. A slight shoulder wound.”
“I don’t care about Gretchen,” Johanna sobbed as she gripped her mother’s arm. “I want to know about Frankie.”
“She’s been stabbed.”
“Oh no!” Gracelyn clutched at Johanna. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I don’t know how serious her wounds are.”
Johanna was already flying out the back door before he finished the sentence. She raced to where Frankie lay on her side. She looked at Frankie’s pale pallid complexion and brushed a hand across her cheek. “How bad is it, baby?”
“I’ll live,” Frankie said with a weak smile. “My jacket’s ruined, though.”
Johanna’s relief at seeing Frankie alive and Frankie’s statement caused her to suddenly burst out in laughter before breaking down in sobs. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It’s not your fault, sweetie. I’d never blame you.”
“Francine, we were so frightened for you. Are you in a lot of pain, dear?” Gracelyn asked, staring down at her.
“It feels like my back is on fire and my neck aches,” Frankie admitted. “Other than that I think I’m okay.”
Gracelyn moved aside as the paramedics surrounded Frankie. Johanna stood up and joined her mother as they watched the medics.
“We’re going to take her into the house to bandage her up. She’s refusing to go to the hospital,” one of the paramedics said to Johanna.