Claudia Must Die

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Claudia Must Die Page 13

by Markinson, T. B.


  “Who’s the woman?” asked Boyd.

  “My mother,” Claudia said through gritted teeth.

  “Why’s her mouth taped shut?”

  “What?” Francis glanced into the back seat. “Why in the world would you tape your mom’s mouth shut?”

  “Cause she’s a bitch,” grumbled Dennis.

  The woman squirmed even more, but she couldn’t hit Dennis, since her arms were taped behind her back as well.

  “Claudia! What have you done?” Francis reached back and ripped the tape off the woman’s mouth.

  Otis, Parker and Claudia shouted, “No,” but it was too late.

  “Ouch! You asshole. You could have been nice about it,” said Claudia’s mom.

  “Yep, you haven’t changed one bit, have you?” Dennis shook his head.

  “I see Claudia’s taste in men has reached even further into the gutter. Hey you, you big galoot in the front seat, who do you think you are? Making me sit on this man’s lap. He apparently likes it.”

  “That’s my gun.” Boyd defended himself.

  “Gun? Does everyone have a gun?” she asked.

  “I don’t, but I would like it back,” said Dennis.

  “Be quiet,” Francis muttered.

  “Who in the fuck do you think you are? Do you know who you’re dealing with?” Dennis puffed out his chest.

  Francis turned around and punched him in the nose. “The man who killed my cousin—that’s who I’m dealing with.”

  Blood splattered the backseat.

  “Hey, you got blood all over my new blouse. Who’s going to pay for this?” demanded Claudia’s mother. “I don’t have millions of dollars like my daughter. She left town with all that money and hasn’t sent me one dime. Not one!”

  “Shut up!” shouted Francis.

  “Who do you think you are, telling me to shut up? I’m old enough to be your mother. Show me some respect, you big ape.”

  “Has she been like this the entire time?” Francis asked Otis. The younger Woolf nodded.

  Running his hand over his head, Francis said, “I’m going to tell you once, be quiet or else.”

  “Or else what? You don’t scare me.” The mother turned to her daughter. “Claudia would never listen to me, would never heed my advice, and now look. She’s hanging out with you lowlifes.”

  The mother sniffed excessively. She turned around to eye Boyd. “Are you wearing Old Spice? God I hate that smell. Claudia’s no good father wore Old Spice. I despised it on him, and I despise it on you. At least Dennis doesn’t wear that shitty cologne. However, the oil he puts in his hair is hideous—smells like rattlesnake piss and looks like shit.”

  Dennis bristled. Boyd tried to disappear into the seat.

  Francis couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned over and re-taped her mouth. When she tried to bite him as he did so, it took all of his self-restraint not to slap the bitch across the face.

  Once her mom was silenced, Claudia asked, “Why is Dennis alive?”

  Dennis leaned forward to stare into his wife’s face, but she avoided all eye contact.

  “We ran into a complication,” explained Francis.

  “Which was?”

  “He won’t tell us where the boys’ family is, or if they are still alive.”

  Claudia whacked Dennis in the head with her gun.

  “Ouch! You fucking bitch!”

  “Spill it, Dennis, or I’ll blow your fucking head off!”

  Her mother whipped her head around and tried, through the tape, to admonish her daughter for using foul language.

  “Don’t start with me, Mother. You’ve done nothing but bitch since we rescued you. Not even a thank you. Dennis, you have ten seconds.”

  “Give me that gun, Claudia.” Francis couldn’t take it anymore. “Otis, find a secluded area and pull over. I need to think.” He rubbed his head with the tip of the gun he had just taken from Claudia.

  Claudia’s mom managed to loosen the tape with her tongue. “I hope that thing is loaded and you blow your brains out.”

  His face went three shades of scarlet, and everyone in the car thought Francis would kill the woman right then and there. He inhaled deeply and asked, “Do we have more duct tape?”

  Parker handed him Claudia’s purse.

  Francis wrapped the tape around the mom’s mouth and the back of her head three times, making sure it was nice and tight. If she uttered one more word, he wouldn’t be able to control his Irish temper.

  Otis pulled off onto a dirt road. After traveling down it for several miles, he stopped the car. Francis bolted from his seat before the car came to a complete stop.

  Otis, Boyd, Claudia, and Parker also couldn’t wait to get out. When her mother tried to get out of the car, Claudia slammed the door in her face. Dennis and the mother had their hands tied behind their backs, so they couldn’t open the door.

  “Jesus, Claudia, you could have warned us,” said Francis.

  “To be honest, I forgot how bad she was. All these months I kept thinking I wanted to see her, but now, I wouldn’t object if you pushed her from the car while it was traveling a hundred miles an hour.”

  No one laughed at the joke. Actually, it wasn’t a joke—all of them felt the same way.

  “Does anyone have any idea how to keep her quiet? It won’t take her long to chew through that tape. Once she gets going, there’s no stopping her.” Claudia peered into the backseat, where her mother was kicking Dennis and muttering through the tape. “If I liked him more, I might feel sorry for him.”

  “What?” Francis leaned down and squinted into the backseat. Then an idea struck him. He opened the door and cut the tape over the mother’s mouth, and then slammed the door shut again before she could rip into him.

  Everyone instantly understood Francis’s motive.

  Otis turned to his brother, “Want to make a bet?”

  Boyd nodded. “Five minutes until he spills.”

  Francis chipped in. “Ten.”

  Parker offered eight minutes.

  “Oh no, he’s used to her. I say an hour.” Claudia looked confident.

  “An hour! No way,” said Parker.

  “How much?” asked Claudia.

  “How do we determine the winner?”

  “Let’s go by Price is Right rules. Whoever is over, loses.”

  “Price is right? Doesn’t that imply you have to be spot on?” Parker cocked her head, confused.

  “Are you serious? You’ve never seen the show Price is Right?” Claudia scratched her chin.

  “I didn’t watch a lot of TV,” replied Parker.

  “But come on, every American kid has seen it at least once. What about Sesame Street? Count von Count?”

  “Why are there two counts?”

  “There’s only one count. That’s just his name.”

  “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Parker, have you seen him or not?”

  “Doesn’t sound familiar…” Her voice trailed off.

  “You would remember him. He was a vampire who did bits to teach children about math. Surely you would have loved him.”

  “A vampire! Why would a vampire teach math?”

  “He was funny, and he loved to count. Hence the name Count von Count.”

  “Sounds stupid to me. I’m glad I never owned a TV.”

  Otis’s head perked up. “Never?”

  Parker shook her head.

  “Not even your family when you were a kid?” probed Boyd.

  “My grandparents, but I could only watch an hour a week.”

  “What did you do for fun?” asked Otis.

  “I read. And I had a microscope.”

  “Microscope!” Claudia tittered. “That does explain a lot.”

  “Oh, I’m learning a lot about you as well, Claudia.” Parker gestured to the individuals in the backseat of the vehicle.

  “What did you do for fun?” Parker asked Ot
is.

  “We liked to play Big Buck Hunter.” Otis spoke without thinking.

  “What’s that?”

  “A game where you shoot—” Otis stopped, and Boyd stepped away from the conversation.

  Claudia laughed sarcastically. “What about you, Francis? What do you do for fun?”

  “Read.” His short answer informed the group not to push it.

  Claudia missed his cue. “No wonder you and Miss Anti-social are best of friends.”

  “Careful, Claudia. Your mother is shining through.”

  She harrumphed, but remained quiet.

  That’s when everyone noticed Dennis banging his head against the car window. From the looks of his forehead, he had been slamming away for some time, trying to get everyone’s attention.

  “Ha! Looks like you lose, Claudia.” Parker grinned triumphantly.

  “Too bad you never agreed to an amount, so you win nothing.” Claudia stuck her tongue out at the student.

  “Pride—that’s all that matters.”

  Francis opened the door, and Dennis heaved his body onto the ground and rolled away from the car.

  Claudia’s mother tried to follow him. “No you don’t.” Francis shoved her back into the car and shut the door on her once again.

  “That woman is insane.” Dennis panted like a dog. “And it’s fucking hot in there.”

  “Otis, will you turn on the AC for Claudia’s sweet mother?” Francis turned back to Dennis. He nudged him with his foot. “Tell me what I want to know, or I’ll lock you back up with her.”

  “Okay, okay.” Dennis pulled himself into a sitting position and leaned against the car. He looked as if he had been through ten rounds in a boxing match.

  “They’re alive, but I don’t know for how much longer. One of my associates is watching them. If he doesn’t hear from me this evening, his orders are to kill them.”

  Boyd kicked Dennis hard in the gut.

  “Hold on, Boyd. He hasn’t said which associate, or where.” Francis pulled Boyd back and then squatted down to stare into those black eyes. “Of course, he will, or we’ll put him back in the car.”

  Dennis’s head wobbled. It was clear that he didn’t want to listen to the crazy mother any more. He couldn’t even remember what she had said. The words weren’t that bothersome; it was the ceaseless bitching in that high-pitched voice. All the woman did was complain, belittle, demean, and then nag some more. Nothing nice ever came out of her mouth.

  “They aren’t far from here.”

  “I told you he’d have him at his bunker. Don’t see why you just didn’t kill him when you had the chance.” Claudia spat on the ground.

  “Not the bunker—the police found out about that place when a buddy hid there after…‌an incident.” Dennis didn’t bother playing coy.

  The past year had been hard on him. When his wife had disappeared, many of his associates went apeshit. Some stopped doing business with him completely, fearing Claudia had turned to the Feds. Dennis was beat, and he knew it. The look in Francis’s eyes told him he didn’t have much longer to live. A relieved smile tugged at the corners of Dennis’s mouth. God, he was tired.

  “You have ten seconds to tell me the address and how many guards there are.”

  Dennis did as he was told.

  Otis drove the women back to the hotel to retrieve the other car and to rescue Fritz from the hotel room. Francis asked Otis and Parker to stall for as long as they could.

  When the group returned, there was no sign of Dennis. Claudia had driven back alone, except for her mother, in the sedan. Otis, Parker, and Fritz had refused to ride with the mother. She stopped the car, leaving the AC on for her mother, and got out. She didn’t want to see Dennis, but she also wanted to know what happened.

  “Where is he?” she demanded.

  Neither Francis nor Boyd spoke.

  “Where is he?” a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “It was painless, Claudia. He didn’t even see it coming. Francis offered him a cigar, and I think for a moment he thought he was safe. It was painless.” Boyd placed a hand on her shoulder.

  She trembled. “I didn’t know you were going to—I would have stayed.” Claudia panicked. “How do you know he told you the truth?”

  “They’re safe. Got the phone call right before—” Francis looked towards the horizon. Boston was 2,000 miles away, and he couldn’t wait to get back and put all of this behind him.

  “Now what?”

  “Well, I’m guessing the boys will be heading back to Texas to be with their family.” Francis turned to Boyd, and the Texan gave him a quick nod. “We’ll drop you and your mom some place.” He sucked in some air and added, “Nearby. Parker and I will head back to our lives in Boston.”

  Parker, shell-shocked, nodded in silence. Off to the side, she noticed a mound of fresh dirt. No one would know. They were in the middle of nowhere.

  “So, I’m free to go?” Claudia’s voice trembled.

  “I think so. Parker?” Francis turned to Ida’s lover. “You agree?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Boyd, Otis, what about you boys? Do you have any issues with letting Claudia go?”

  The Texans shook their heads. “No issues,” clarified Boyd.

  “What about her?” Claudia pointed to her mother.

  “She wasn’t part of the deal. And I hate to do this to you, considering, but I want nothing else to do with her.” Francis’s firm voice reinforced his words.

  “I need to get back to Boston,” Claudia said.

  “I’ll give you money for airfare. But that’s all I’ll do.”

  Claudia wandered over to the mound. The bastard had it easy now. She had to put her life back together. Even though he was gone, Claudia knew that once she grabbed her money from Boston, she would never step foot in the West again. Her life here was over. She needed to start a new one.

  It’s fitting that he’s buried here. Alone. None of his family ever wanted to see him anyway. That had been another clue she had missed, or overlooked. Then she thought of her own mother. Well, she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Claudia knew what it was like to have people judging her because of her mother.

  She turned back to the car, where her mom sat. “How did I forget how awful she could be?” Turning back to the mound she said, “Goodbye, Dennis.”

  The boys picked up their family and headed straight for Texas.

  Francis dropped Claudia and her mother off at a hotel outside a small town in Nebraska. Her mother started right in on her. Claudia gave her the slip the next time they stopped for gas, and hitched a ride with a truck driver. Francis was true to his word: he had given her airfare money, but Claudia wanted to save every penny. She was on her way to the Big Apple, to try her hand at acting. If she couldn’t pretend to be Parker, she thought she would like to pretend to be other people. Chase her childhood dream. Just as long as she didn’t have to be herself all the time—that was too much. With the kind of life experience she had now, surely she would be able to get in touch with the characters she portrayed.

  Epilogue

  Parker and Francis sat on Parker’s deck. It wasn’t the same apartment, although similar to the one she had lived in ten years ago. Parker found she couldn’t bear to live in the apartment Ida had once visited. Only a Red Sox game on the radio broke the silence.

  Eventually, Francis said, “I can’t believe it.”

  “Killed instantly,” Parker murmured, and sipped her gin and tonic. Earlier that day, the radio had reported that Broadway star, Claudia James, had been struck by a bus in New York City.

  Parker stirred her gin and tonic and took another sip. Then she turned to Francis. “Would that be considered fate, or karma?”

  He knew she wasn’t joking, merely asking out of intellectual curiosity. “That’s an interesting question…” he replied.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Claudia Must D
ie. If you enjoyed the novel, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon. No matter how long or short, I would very much appreciate your feedback.

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  You can follow me, T. B. Markinson, on twitter at @50YearProject, on Facebook or email me at [email protected]. I would love to know your thoughts.

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  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my editor, Karin Cox. I am extremely grateful for all the hours she spent hunting for my mistakes, and for her wonderful suggestions on how to improve the final product. Thank you to my beta readers, who assisted me in the early stages. Jeri Walker-Bickett did a fabulous job proofreading, giving me peace of mind. Guido Henkel did a fantastic job formatting this e-book. I’m grateful for his patience and know-how. Writing can be a lonely occupation. Many people helped me through the loneliness and I would like to say how much I appreciate their time, especially Hilary Grossman who offered me guidance and friendship when I needed it most. To all my blogging buddies, thanks for your support and encouragement. You guys rock. Lastly, my sincerest thanks go to my partner. Without her support and encouragement, this novel would not exist.

  About the Author

  T. B. Markinson is a forty-year-old American writer living in England, who pledged she would publish before she was thirty-five. Better late than never. When she isn’t writing, she’s traveling the world, watching sports on the telly, visiting pubs in England, or taking the dog for a walk. Not necessarily in that order. She has also written A Woman Lost, Marionette, and Confessions from a Coffee Shop.

  Sign up to TB’s New Release Mailing List here. Your email will never be shared and you will only be contacted when a new book is out.

  Feel free to visit TB’s blogs to say hello. On Making My Mark, she discusses her self-publishing journey and helps other authors promote their books. On her 50 Year Project, she chronicles her challenge to visit 192 countries, read 1001 books, and to watch the AFI’s top 100 movies.

 

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