“Who could this person be, Blade? And what could I have done to piss off someone that badly?”
“I don’t know. The police assured me they will trace this driver and I believe they will. In the meantime, you’re safe here. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you,” he vowed and his jaw clenched. “I’ve asked the doctor when I can take you home. He said that if you felt well enough, he’ll release you tomorrow, if we promise to follow his instructions.”
I expelled a long breath.
“I’ll go crazy until tomorrow, lying in this bed,” I whined. “I need a shower, I need my laptop, I need to do something!”
I knew I was bitching now, but couldn’t stop.
“Your mom will be here shortly. She’ll bring you clean clothes and will help you shower, but the doctor said not to wash your hair under any circumstances.”
I nodded listlessly, then a thought struck me.
“Mom! Don’t tell Mom about this, Blade! It’s the last thing she needs right now, to learn that a crazy maniac is hunting her daughter.”
“I won’t, for now. But she’ll have to hear about it, Angie.”
“I know, but... Let’s just wait and see what the police find.”
“Okay. I miss you,” he said sadly. “The house feels so empty without you.”
He bent and kissed my lips softly, then gingerly traced the white bandage around my forehead with his knuckles. I didn’t even want to imagine how I looked—pale, with no makeup on, probably bruised and with that freaking bandage flattening my hair.
“Just one more day,” I said, speaking as much to him as to the image of our hot tub filled with hot, fragrant, foamy water.
A knock sounded at the door and after my urge to come in, Mom and Belle popped into the room, carrying some bags. I was assaulted by two rounds of questions about how I felt, what had the doctor said and other inquiries regarding my condition. I patiently replied to all questions, as both Mom and Belle fussed around me, unpacking the contents of the bags. They had brought so much stuff that one would have thought I was off on a two-month trip.
In the middle of this chaos, Blade kissed me quickly and escaped, overwhelmed by all the estrogen in the small hospital room. He asked if I needed anything, then, after I gestured toward all the things my girls had brought, he promised to come and visit me in the evening.
So I was left alone with two chattering women and a dull headache.
“Mom, I’m going home tomorrow. I don’t need all this stuff,” I said, but she waved me away and continued with her unpacking and organizing, assisted by Belle. They had brought me clean towels, a toothbrush and toothpaste, soap, fresh underwear, magazines, two pairs of pajamas, my cell phone, and a few other such articles.
After a while Belle left for work, and I asked Mom to help me take a shower. I washed carefully and made her scratch my back until I nearly wept with joy. I was dying to wash my hair, but the fear of having to stay in the hospital longer than was necessary held me back. So I had Mom comb it for me gently and twist it into a braid so it won’t tangle again.
Washed, combed and exhausted, I lay back on the bed.
“How’s Rat?” I asked Mom, struggling to keep my tired eyes open.
“Oh, he’s wonderful. Sitting all day on the windowsill, staring transfixed at people and cars. He’s fascinated by the street,” Mom said, smiling affectionately.
“I forgot to show you this.” I lifted my hand so she could see my ring.
“Oh, baby,” she cooed, her eyes filling with tears again. “It’s lovely! I assume this is...”
“My engagement ring, yes,” I said, grinning widely, then proceeded to tell her about our evening at the restaurant, before its dreadful conclusion.
Mom sighed dreamily, still holding my hand and admiring the exquisite sparkle of the diamond.
“You are one lucky woman,” she said. “I know you and Blade will live happily ever after.”
If I outlive the crazed killer who’s stalking me, I thought, but smiled warmly up at her.
“I know, Mom. Go home and rest. The doctor said I should sleep as much as I could, and it looks like he’s giving me serious drugs to make sure I obey,” I told her around a yawn.
I slept throughout the day, haunted by dreams of cars chasing me on dead-end streets. When I opened my bleary eyes, the room was almost dark. I stretched carefully, glad to feel the pains in my body had diminished. I sat up slowly and waited on the edge of the bed for the dizziness and pain in my head to fade. When they subsided, I shoved my feet into my slippers and stood. Not bad so far. Up until now, I’d only stood and walked with someone else’s assistance, but I felt good enough to try and walk a bit.
I opened the door to peek outside in the corridor. So far, so good. All was quiet. It looked like Nurse Anderson had taken a break from her vigilant guarding over me. I smiled triumphantly and walked out in the hall. My room was at the third floor, so I had to take an elevator downstairs, managing to stay stoically grumpy when the other passengers stared at me. I knew I looked like a freak show, with my bandaged head and ghostly hospital gown. I kept my mouth shut though, looking at the numbers that indicated the floors.
When we reached the ground floor, I followed one of my travelling companions—a thick-set broad who I didn’t want to see in small-sized clothes—in the hope that she would lead me toward the exit. Thankfully she did, and soon I was taking my first breath of fresh air. After two days spent cooped up in my room, I felt as free as Mowgli in the jungle.
My destination was a small park I’d spotted through the stingy window of my private little hospital cell. It wasn’t much more than a green patch with a few trees and a dozen or so benches scattered about, but it seemed heaven to me. There were only a couple of people around, obviously patients and their visitors. I chose a bench under an old oak tree and sat gratefully, already feeling my feet weak and trembling.
I rested against the wood backrest, letting my head fall back to stare at the sky. No stars. I’ve read once that stars aren’t visible from big cities because of the city lights. I didn’t know if that was true, but I would sure have loved to see even just a tiny star tonight. No luck though, so I watched the dark sky and thought about the person who wanted me dead.
For the last forty-eight hours or so, this thought had never left me. It stalked me from the back of my mind and crept upon me whenever I allowed it. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think of any person who could hold such a grudge against me. All I had done since I’d moved here was go to work and come back home. I got along well with all my coworkers—except maybe for Corinne, but the thought of her renting a car with a fake ID to drive over me was ridiculous. She didn’t like me, that was for damned sure, but hate me? No. And only such a strong emotion as hate could generate actions as that which put me into the hospital with my head split open.
I doubted Johnny DiLucca had been so pissed off because of my rejection that he would get murderous, even though he had one sick imagination. In fact, I thought that if he wanted to hurt me he could come up with something more exciting than just run me over with a car. No, the thing was ridiculous.
Who, then? I hadn’t had any confrontations with anybody. Unless...
I sat straight up abruptly, then grabbed my head with one hand to steady it. No. It couldn’t be. But even as I denied it to myself, the thought began to crystallize in my mind. There was one person who could hate me enough to want me dead. Blade’s ex-wife.
She doesn’t even know me! one part of my brain tried to reason.
You can’t be sure of that, can you? And her mind is twisted enough that she lied she was pregnant to get Blade to marry her. A person who does that is capable of anything, another part chimed in.
Just as I tried to put my ideas into order and get my thoughts under control, a furious Blade appeared in my line of vision, glaring menacingly down at me.
“What the hell are you doing, Angelina? I’ve been raking the whole fucking hospital looking for
you!”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off, “Never mind, we’ll get to that later. I came by so late because I was called at the police station. They caught the driver who hit you.”
He hesitated, and I could see deep lines etched around his mouth and creasing his forehead. He said, “It was Allison, my damned ex-wife.”
Twenty
I was speechless. The whole business was getting not only out of hand, but out of the grasp of my understanding. I stared at him dumbfounded, with my mouth agape. The silence stretched on for several moments, during which Blade sat next to me and buried his head in his hands, shoulders slumped.
Finally I asked, “Are they sure it was her?”
“Yes. Her fingerprints are everywhere in the car.” He looked over at me. “You don’t seem surprised,” he remarked, dismayed.
I shook my head slowly from side to side.
“This sounds crazy, but I was just pondering that possibility right before you arrived. I tried and tried to think of anyone who would want to hurt me so badly, and... The only person that came to my mind was your ex-wife. Only she has reasons to want me dead.”
“Reasons?” he exploded. “She has absolutely no reason, nor cause, nor the right to even think about either me, or you. I can’t believe how sick in the head she is, and how stupid I was not to see it!”
“Blade, it’s not your fault,” I said, placing a hand on his arm.
“The hell it isn’t! I married the goddamned bitch, didn’t I? Now she nearly killed you because of me!”
“No! Look at me. It’s not your fault, Blade. She is crazy, that’s the simple truth. She got away with it because she’s probably very charming and knows how to hide her insanity. You were just a victim, and so was I. Now that they’ve caught her, it’s over.”
“It will be over when I see her dead, by my hand.”
The statement was said softly and so deliberately it made the hair on the back of my neck rise. The hateful glint in his eyes was deadly, and I shuddered to think what he would do if ever he got his hands on that murderous, twisted bitch. I would hold his coat.
But for now I had to be the voice of reason, no matter how hard it was.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” I told him soothingly, linking my fingers with his. “That woman doesn’t deserve you rotting in jail, not even for the satisfaction of seeing her eyes bulge while you squeeze your hands around her throat. She will be the one to rot in prison.”
“I sure hope so,” he replied grimly. “The prosecutor is charging her with attempted murder, and considering that premeditation was obvious, he should be able to make it stick.”
We sat in silence for a while, trying not only to absorb this avalanche of outlandish facts, but to cope with them as well.
Suddenly I said, “I want to see her.”
Blade looked at me startled. He was probably going to ask why, or object to my request, but after a brief moment he nodded.
“I understand. I’ll take you to see her as soon as you feel better.”
“I want to go tomorrow,” I said stubbornly, staving off his protests. “Please, Blade. I have to do this. I have to look her in the eyes.”
“Okay, but only if the doctor allows it. That’s the bottom line, Angelina. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it. Now, would you see me back to my room? I need to lie down for a bit.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and led me gently to the hospital entrance. When we got into the elevator, he turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, Angie. I know you think I’m not to blame, but still... This would never have happened to you if it weren’t for me.”
“You’re wrong, Blade. If I hadn’t left you the way I did three years ago, you would have never even met her. You could just as well see that it’s my fault. But let’s not waste time looking for culprits, when the only culprit is this woman, who tried to ruin both of our lives. After tomorrow, it will be over. We will make closure.”
I rested my cheek on his shoulder and he held me tight, burying his face in my hair.
When we reached my room, a stern-looking Nurse Anderson was ready to breathe fire.
“Angelina, I told you not to leave this room by yourself. You could have fallen and broken your neck, for Heaven’s sake! And guess who would have been blamed for that?”
“I’m sorry, Nurse, but I had to go out for a while,” I said, lowering my eyes in contrition. “I’m fine, and I promise not to leave the room again. Besides, tomorrow you’ll be rid of me for good,” I added, grinning at her.
She looked me over and mumbled some more uncomplimentary remarks under her breath, then left after Blade promised he wouldn’t stay long and would let me rest.
I let him tuck me into bed, gratefully resting my aching head on the cool, soft pillow. When he was about to leave, I put a hand on his sleeve to stop him and asked, “Did she confess?”
He sat back down on the edge of my bed.
“Yes, after an hour of interrogation. At first she denied everything, but when confronted with the evidence against her, she called for a lawyer. Then she claimed temporary insanity, saying she acted on an impulse of rage because you and I insulted her when she called me that day, to ask me to pick up my things.”
“But that’s bullshit!”
“That’s what Detective Johnson said. He’s the one in charge of the case. He pointed out that the evidence proved premeditation, and she changed her story yet again. Her lawyer tried to make her appear mentally unstable, but the preliminary examination of a psychiatrist showed that she was in full command of her faculties when she planned this.”
“What evidence do they have?” I asked, turning myself to one side to better look at him. “And how did they find her so fast?”
“Well, that was actually a strike of luck. They found the car abandoned in the parking lot of a supermarket, then used the license plate to trace it to the rental agency that owns it. Fortunately, the owner had the presence of mind to make copies of every ID of his clients, without them knowing. Allison used a fake name, but she had to use her own picture. So when Detective Johnson emailed me the picture to ask if either you or I knew her, I immediately gave them her name and address.” He shrugged. “It was simple after that. It didn’t even occur to her she could get caught. They arrested her just as she was coming back from work.”
We sat in silence for a few moments, then I spoke again, “Do you think she will stay in prison? I mean, with all the escape routes the law has, maybe she will be released.”
Blade shook his head.
“I doubt it. The evidence is clear and the prosecutor is determined to see her punished. He even denied her lawyer’s request for bail. I don’t know how long she’ll stay in jail, but it will be long enough for her to think hard about what she’s done. And she knows that when she gets out, I will be waiting.”
The tone in which he said it was almost sinister, but I couldn’t allow myself to worry. He wouldn’t get the chance to get close to Allison. And even if he did, I didn’t actually think him capable of murder. At least, I hoped he wasn’t.
I blinked several times to chase away these unsettling thoughts. Blade took my hand in his.
“I’ll leave you to rest now, Angelina. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow around lunch, okay? And please, put this out of your mind. It’s over.”
He bent and kissed my forehead gently before he headed out, leaving me to another night of restless dreams. At least my faceless enemy now had an identity. Knowing it, I could fight her.
Twenty-One
Next morning I was feeling much better. My headache had turned into a dull pressure, persistent but bearable. My hip and shoulder were still a bit sore, but all in all I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Doctor Armstrong came by early, and after a full checkup declared that I was in very good shape. Nurse Anderson removed the mummy bandage around my head and replaced it with a small square patch.
“You were l
ucky,” Doctor Armstrong said. “I only had to put four stitches in that gash on your temple and didn’t have to shave any of your hair, since the wound is close to your hairline. You’ll probably have just a tiny, faded scar on your temple,” he concluded, patting my head gently.
“That’s a relief,” I said, shuddering at the thought of having even a small patch of my hair shaved. “And to think that girls in our day do that deliberately, to be fashionable by adopting that preposterous haircut with half of their hair shaved or cut very short, and the other half long.”
I shook my head in dismay, making the doctor laugh.
“I perfectly agree with you there, Angie. But what can we do? Fashion is an out of control phenomenon, which brings us closer and closer to the tribes of cannibals that mutilate their children by piercing their skin, tattooing them and subjecting them to all sorts of barbaric practices, just for the sake of their twisted sense of fashion.”
“Amen to that, Doc,” I said as he stood to go. He turned around to give me his last directives. “Sleep at least ten hours a night, no work for at least one week, no washing your hair for a week. See you in seven days to remove your stitches.”
He winked at me and left, followed by Nurse Anderson.
I remained to wait for Blade to collect me. I packed all the stuff Mom and Belle had brought me, then lay back on the bed, feeling exhausted. I was just thumbing through a magazine, debating the wisdom of filling in a How good in bed are you quiz, when Mom called.
“Hi, Mom,” I said into the phone.
“How are you, darling? How do you feel?”
“I’m great. I really feel much better. Not up to standing on my head yet, but the doctor says I’ll be fully recovered in a couple of days.”
“I’m so happy to hear that! Do you want me to come and pick you up?”
“No, no, don’t worry. I’m expecting Blade any minute now. I hope you’ll come see me tonight.”
“Of course I will,” she said, as though there had never been any question about that.
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