by Hart, Randi
“Thirty. Thousand, that is. We like nice round numbers. But because of the extra expenses involved, the final contract price to him ended up being closer to forty. His money was tied up in his attorney’s client trust fund account—”
“The money’s coming from his lawyer?”
“That’s essentially correct. Of course, she doesn’t know that, which is what makes the funds transfer complicated—”
“That bastard!” Alison could feel tears on her cheeks. Her own money, that she gave to help him, was being used to have her killed.
“Miss Carson, do we have a deal?”
“I’ll triple it. All of it. $120,000. Cash. Some of it in American Express gift cards. Might take me a couple weeks to get it all together.”
“Excellent. Here.” Tom handed her a key.
“That’s a safe deposit box at the Farmers and Merchants bank one block down the hill.” He pointed. “We have another key for it, and you have already been established as a user on the account. You just need to show them your ID and the key when you go there to get access. Nice folks at that bank, so there won’t be any trouble. We’ll look to have the money in that box two weeks from today, then.” Tom stopped petting his dog and looked into Alison’s eyes.
“Just one more thing. We did our homework on you, and trust you to pay us—so the contractor will be hired immediately. If you leave here with that key, it’s irreversible…”
Alison didn’t wait for him to finish. She got up and jogged back to the taxi.
“Change of plans,” she told the taxi driver. “Just take me back home. Sorry. You still have your $20 tip coming.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The phone rang. Alison looked at her clock. It was 7:05 pm Thursday evening. That would be Rick. He always called at 7:05. She tossed back the last of her glass of vodka and cranberry juice and picked up the phone.
“Rick?”
No response.
“Hello? Rick, is that you?”
“Oh …hi, honey. Sorry, the phone was acting weird. Is everything okay? I got concerned when you didn’t show up today. God, I miss you.” But it sounded to Alison as though he were slightly surprised to hear her answer.
“Yes honey,” she said in her sweetest possible forced voice. “I’m sorry. I miss you too—terribly. This financial issue has gotten more complicated. I guess I have to tell you now, but it was going to be a surprise. I’m moving some money around, and selling a few things, because I rented an apartment in Boston—so I can be close to you, and we have a place to live together when the time comes.”
There was long, unnatural pause. Alison wondered if he suspected her of knowing that he now knew about her. The conversational flow between them was strangely different. The words were all the same as they would have been, but that comfortable, familiar warmth was now missing from both sides. The image of two poker players both bluffing flashed across Alison’s mind, waiting to see which one would back down.
She, of course, knew they were both lying. But he might only know that he was lying, although this sudden break in seeing each other—for two weekends now, after so many months of her being there like clockwork—had to be unsettling for him.
Finally, Alison broke the silence herself.
“Honey?”
“I’m here, Ali. Just sort of …overwhelmed. I had no idea. You should have told me! I hope it’s nothing too expensive.”
“That doesn’t matter. I have some money, now, remember? And we will want a nice, out-of-the-way place to hole up together for a while when you get out, right?” Alison knew there was only one hole Rick actually wanted her in, however, and it was six feet deep. But she was willing to play this telephone game for the entire allotted five minutes if he insisted. No way was she going to crack. Not now.
“Alison, is there anything else you haven’t told me? Is everything really okay? Things seem …different all of a sudden. Or am I just being paranoid?”
“I don’t know, Rick. You are very perceptive, after all. I do wish I was there with you right now. Even had a flight booked that I had to miss. Maybe I just feel a little strange. Yes, there are some things I haven’t told you, and I’m a little worried you will be upset.”
“I won’t be upset, Ali. We’ve all done things we regret. If there’s anything that could possibly put a wedge between us, let’s just get it out in the open. I want us to be close. So close we have nothing to fear. If there’s something you need to tell me, please, just do it.”
Alison felt her resolve weaken and a tear on her cheek. “Rick ….I …I”
“Yes, honey?”
“I can’t have kids. The pregnancy …it was an ectopic one. I didn’t voluntarily have it aborted. I keeled over in the office and had to be rushed to the hospital. Because of the hemorrhage, they had to go in and get it surgically. The doctor’s diagnosed me with something called Asherman's syndrome, and because of that they recommended I have my tubes tied to prevent any accidental pregnancies in the future, which are dangerous for me.”
There was another short pause before Rick spoke again. This time, however, it was in a low, caring, loving voice.
“Ali, do you blame me for that?”
“I did, yes,” Alison choked. Tears were now streaming down her face.
“This Asherman’s thing,” he said, “was it caused by the bad pregnancy?”
“They don’t know, maybe.”
“But maybe not, right? I mean, there’s a decent chance any pregnancy would have ended up the same way, with the same result—right?”
“That’s what they said, yes,” Alison sobbed. She was bawling uncontrollably now.
“Honey, it’s okay. Honey, I love you. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I would give everything I have to stop that. Ali, are you still with me?”
“Yes.”
“Just know that I love you, Ali. Please just know that. If only I had the power to always be with you and protect you from everything. I love you, baby.”
“Rick, there’s more.”
“It’s okay, honey. Whatever it is, I don’t care. I just love you and want you to be okay. Really. I’ve done some awfully stupid things that I regret, and now I want to stop them all and love you forever. Maybe I still can…”
“No Rick, please. I need to tell you—”
“Times up Waterman, hang up,” a loud, stern voice in the background said.
“I have to go, Ali. They’re taking the phone from me. I’ll call you again Saturday. I can call you back Saturday—”
Click. Dial tone. He was gone.
Alison crumpled to the floor and wept like she never had before in her life. She soaked the carpet with tears. Huge gasping sobs occasionally stopped just long enough to hear the phone screaming its off-the-hook signal. Finally, the phone went dead. A while later, Allison stopped, too. She had exhausted herself and eventually fell asleep on the floor next to the phone receiver.
Friday was a strange day. Everything felt surreal to Alison. Maybe nothing was real. What’s the point of life, anyway? Why couldn’t she live normally, like everyone else? Why did she have to get tangled up in insane circumstances, and have her heart crushed into little pieces over and over again? Did anything matter? All these simple people all around her leading pathetic little lives, why did they seem happy? There’s no happiness, everyone was just fooling themselves. Existence was a gigantic waste of time, God’s idea of a cruel joke.
She didn’t eat anything and went for a long walk. Alongside the bay, Alison saw people fishing and boating and walking dogs. One of them looked like Tom’s dog and she did a double-take. It seemed to recognize her as well. The person walking it wasn’t Tom, though. Another little piece of cruelty added to the big joke.
Alison looked up to the sky and asked God if this was really it. Is this all He wanted from us, to haunt us with stupid little things like that dog? Would it matter at all to Him if Alison climbed up on this rock pile, jumped into the bay and drowned? Would He get some pervers
e satisfaction from that?
What the hell, she climbed up on the rocks and looked down.
It wasn’t far enough to hurt her, most likely, but what if she let out all her breath on the way down and then gasped in a lungful of water after she sank down under? What would happen then? Would her body come back up, or stay down? Would anyone ever find her? Would anyone care? It was a simple act to perform, really, and what would God care? Maybe He would find it entertaining. Just a step off this rock, and that would be it. So easy.
At that moment her mom’s voice came into her head. It wasn’t telling Alison she loved her and to please not leave her like this. No, it was horrified over the blasphemy she was committing. Alison was raised catholic. None of her family went to mass anymore, not in many years. But her mother still crossed her heart quite often and both her parents held a fear of the almighty. They would cringe to hear the thoughts in Alison’s head now.
Alison climbed down from the rocks and kept walking. After a while, she noticed her extreme hunger and decided to observe it rather than serve it. What was it going to do if she ignored it? Usually, she grew faint or nauseous from lack of food. She could detect a little of those feelings, too. Stupid feelings, they were bluffing, weren’t they? Alison would test them. She walked all around the city that day and only stopped for a bottle of water. Late in the afternoon, she noticed her hunger pangs gave up. They just quit on her, as if they realized there was no point to it any longer. Alison had won.
She got back home after dark, having walked maybe twenty miles today. Her hunger pangs took another shot at her when she was home, but Alison told them to get bent and collapsed on the couch. Flipping around the television, she happened to come by the religious channel. A preacher in the middle of a sermon said, “Revenge is mine, sayeth the Lord,” just as she turned there. Perfect. She left the TV on that station and slept until nine the next morning.
Saturday was a new day and Alison felt different. Funny thing, she still wasn’t really hungry. But she took a walk several blocks to a favorite bakery and got herself a muffin and a latte. The muffin filled her up and she didn’t even finish it. But what to do the rest of the day? It was a long ways to 7:05.
And what would she do at 7:05? What exactly was she about to say to Rick the other night before her breakdown? She wasn’t actually going to confess to a crime, was she? That seemed like an incredibly foolish thing to do.
Rick was right about the pregnancy, of course. It wasn’t his fault Alison couldn’t have kids. This was the first time she admitted that to herself, and this realization had no doubt been a big factor in the cause of her breakdown. But she was still a victim of his selfish infidelity. The cheating bastard used her and left her in a terrible position.
Yeah, he said he loved her. Maybe he did love her. He probably did. But he chose to break her heart and not explain why. He left her all alone, and with a potentially life-threatening problem that he was half-responsible for. That by itself deserved some kind of retribution if there was any justice.
Then there was the whole hiring an assassin to kill her thing. That wasn’t a very loving act, either. But somehow, Alison could forgive him for that more than she could for him leaving her and marrying another woman after what they had been through together. That was his real crime. Not loving her quite enough to make important life decisions which centered on her to the exclusion of everyone—and everything—else.
Alison knew she was guilty as well. She had overreacted in her lashing out to hurt him. Could acts of revenge ever stop at just the right place, so perfect justice could occur? It sure seemed as though one needed to go just a little further, in order to teach the person a lesson, when getting back at them. Alison had to admit she felt pretty good when Carley left Rick’s office for the last time. And even when he went to prison, it didn’t seem like a severe miscarriage of justice. Only now did Alison fully admit to herself she had gone too far. Things were, after all, going pretty good until just a few days ago. Everything was supposed to be okay by now. The two of them were supposed to be starting a new wonderful life together soon, overflowing with love. Instead, they were hiring hit men on each other.
Alison shrugged it all off and figured out what she would tell Rick when he called later. It wasn’t hard this time. She would tell him about an affair she had with a man in Germany—the same imaginary one Brenda had been told about. She would confess temporary feelings for the man, but that’s all. Rick would certainly be disappointed it wasn’t the confession about Carley, but it would all seem natural enough. Maybe there was still some doubt in Rick’s mind over whether she really was Carley. It didn’t matter anyway. Not now. Tomorrow, she would have to start visiting banks all over the city, withdrawing large sums of cash and purchasing those damn gift cards at $3,000 a pop. It would take at least a week to get $120,000 together without arousing too much suspicion.
Alison went to the movies and lost herself in a stupid guy-flick, some science fiction thing with aliens and space ships. Then she went to a local Denny’s and got a BLT and vanilla shake, her new favorite meal. After that, she came home and turned on the Giant’s game. They were on an early season winning streak. It was a good game, and Alison found herself getting into it. By the 7th inning she knew it was getting near seven o’clock, but had long since stopped looking at the clock. The phone finally rang. She turned down the volume on the TV with one hand and answered the phone with the other.
“Rick?”
No response.
“Hello? Rick, is that you?”
A woman’s voice spoke back instead of Rick’s.
“Is this Alison?”
“Yes, who is this please?” Alison looked over at the clock and saw it was actually a quarter after now, too late for Rick. Something must be wrong.
“This is Mrs. Hammond, Rick Waterman’s case worker. I’m very sorry to have to call you, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Rick passed away today.”
“What!” Alison jumped up off of couch.
“I’m so sorry, Alison. I know you two were close.”
“I talked to him just Thursday, Mrs. Hammond!”
“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry. It happened fast.”
“What happened?”
“There was a disturbance in the prison yard today. Rick was stabbed during a scuffle. They took him to the infirmary immediately, but he was injured too badly and died soon thereafter.”
“Oh no,” Alison said. She was genuinely shocked, as she would have been eventually anyway. There was no way she could have prepared herself for this.
“I know this must be terribly hard on you, dear, and I’m just so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Did he say anything before he died? Is there a message for me? A note maybe, that he wrote?”
“I don’t think so, dear, but if we find anything we will let you know. We’ll also give your phone number to the family, so they can let you know about the arrangements if they choose.”
“Oh,” Alison said. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you Alison?”
“Could you ask his cellmate to call me?”
“Stuart?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I can do that. I’ve got to go now, sweetie. You know how to reach me, so please call me if there is anything else I can do.”
“Yes. Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Hammond. Bye.”
Alison hung up the phone and sat in place for several minutes. The shock wore off surprisingly fast. She didn’t cry. She didn’t know how to feel. She turned the ball game back up, but found she was disinterested now. She made herself a cup of tea, did half a crossword puzzle, and went to bed early. She fell asleep right away and only woke up once in the night to get a drink of water.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The week went by, but Rick’s family never called. Just like a Waterman. Alison was more relieved than disappointed. She already had her hands full running around town to her five different banks acc
umulating cash and gift cards, and had decided she wasn’t going to the funeral. At least now she had a good reason without looking bad.
It appeared as though Rick’s cellmate wasn’t going to call her, either. But then at 7:05 on a very quiet Friday evening the phone burst to life. Alison picked it up on the first ring.
“Hello.”
“You’re Alison?”
“Yes. Is this Stuart?”
“Right. They gave me a message you wanted me to call.”
“Yes. Thanks for calling. I …I just wanted to ask you a couple of things about Rick.”
“Sure,” Stuart said. “Go ahead.” He sounded more relaxed now.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Alison asked. “All they told me was there was a scuffle in the yard and someone stabbed him.”
“Yes, that’s what happened. I was in the yard, but not with him at the time. May I offer my condolences.”
“Thank you. But why would anybody in prison want to hurt Rick? He’s just a lawyer convicted for trust fund comingling.”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. In here, you learn to mind your own affairs. All I can say is it looked to be planned, so my guess is he really pissed someone off, or else somebody had him set up.”
“You think someone wanted to have him killed?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t see it happen?”
“No. There was a diversion on the other side of the yard. I was over there, watching that.”
“All right, Stuart. Thanks. You’re really nice to call and talk to me. Just one more thing, please. Did he say anything to you about …about me last weekend?”
“You kidding? You’re all he ever talked about.”
“Nice things, I hope?”
Silence on the other end.
“Stuart?”
“I’m still here.”
“I really miss him, Stuart, so if you can tell me anything he said about me, about us, about how he felt, if he had anything left unsaid to me, I would really appreciate it.”