“If you’re going to the store, pick me up some ice cream. Either chocolate chip cookie dough or cookies and cream. Hell, just buy them both. Oh, and some onion rings. I know they give me heartburn, but I’ve had a taste for them lately.”
Pudge nodded, then said, “I’ll leave a note on the door for the nurse. Call my cell phone if there’s a problem.”
When Pudge left, Dorothy quickly glanced at the clock. She had a couple of hours before Pudge came home. If she arrived soon, that would give the nurse plenty of time to check through Pudge’s things.
A stress eater, Dorothy plunged into the bag of barbeque chips Pudge had left her. Thirty minutes later, she crumpled the bag, and tossed it to the floor. Anxious and worried her plans would be spoiled by a tardy nurse, she dabbed the sweat coating her forehead. She lowered the volume on the TV and considered calling the nursing agency.
The door bell rang.
Dorothy muted the TV, then yelled, “Come in.”
Seconds later, a middle-aged, plump woman entered the living room. “Dorothy Long?” the woman asked.
“That’s right. You must be my new nurse.”
The woman gave her a warm smile as she approached, then patted Dorothy’s arm. “Yes, I’m Nancy Flannery.”
Nancy immediately put Dorothy at ease. Although a few years younger, Dorothy liked the motherly way Nancy treated her. Unlike Pudge, Nancy fussed over her with a gentle touch and demeanor. She talked about how she was going to be a grandma soon, about her other children, and her dog. For some reason, Dorothy felt as if she’d known Nancy for years.
After Nancy finished checking Dorothy’s blood pressure, heart and temperature, she moved to her bed sores. “Oh my,” she said as she inspected Dorothy’s bottom. “This must be very painful. It was my understanding that you have someone living with you. They should be treating these several times a day.”
After Nancy finished cleaning and dressing the sores with fresh bandages, Dorothy flopped back. Holding on to the bedrails, while Nancy had taken care of her, had exerted Dorothy. Drawing in deep breaths, she nodded. “That’d be my Pudge. I’ve done everything for that child, and what do I get in return?” Dorothy waved a hand. “I’m living in filth, and treated as if I’m an inconvenience.”
“You poor thing,” Nancy said. “If you’re unhappy here, we could look into alternative living arrangements. There are nursing homes that—”
“I don’t want to leave,” Dorothy interrupted. “A nursing home isn’t the right place for me. I’m comfortable here. It’s just that lately…”
Nancy gazed at her with concern and compassion. “You can tell me, Dorothy. What we discuss will stay between us.”
The sympathy in Nancy’s hazel eyes, the kindness in her smile, washed away any concerns Dorothy had about her new nurse. “Well,” Dorothy began. “As you can see, I can’t exactly get out of bed and move around the house.”
Nancy smiled. “What’s important is the person you are on the inside. Don’t look at your weight as a burden. Embrace the woman you are. I know we just met, but I can tell you’re a bright, considerate woman.”
Dorothy decided she liked Nancy more than Gretchen. Gretchen had always harped about what Dorothy ate, her lack of exercise and hygiene. She’d made her obesity sound like a sickness or disease, whereas Nancy didn’t focus on the fat, she focused on Dorothy’s feelings and her needs.
“Thank you,” Dorothy said. “I appreciate you saying that. I don’t get many compliments around here. Anyway, I’ve been worried about my Pudge.”
“How so?”
“I…I can’t be sure, but I think Pudge is using drugs, and bringing people back to the house at strange hours of the day and night. I can’t be sure because I…” She looked down at her bulging stomach. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you mind going into Pudge’s bedroom and looking around. If my child has a drug problem, I want to know if we need to get professional help. I love my Pudge, you see. I don’t know what I would do without my baby.”
Nancy sighed and took Dorothy’s hand. “From one mother to another, I understand completely.”
“You do?”
Nancy nodded.
“If you do find drugs, will you report Pudge to the nursing agency? Like I said, I don’t want to be forced into a nursing home if Pudge has to go to rehab or something.”
“It’ll be our secret. But, out of good conscience, I couldn’t leave you alone all the time with Pudge. I’ll make extra visits—no charge.” She gave Dorothy’s hand a pat before rising. “Which room is Pudge’s?”
Dorothy pointed toward the hallway. “Check the bathroom, too. It’s off the hall, just before the bedroom.”
When Nancy walked away, Dorothy grinned. She couldn’t believe she’d found a confidant in her new nurse, and could picture Nancy visiting her. Maybe they’d watch TV together or play a game of cards. She hadn’t played cards in years. Releasing a wistful sigh, she conjured different scenarios. All of which included a clean house and Nancy. The filth Dorothy had been living in suddenly bothered her. Having this kindred spirit in her house made Dorothy yearn for change. Between Dorothy’s disability check and Pudge’s income, she wondered if they could afford a cleaning service. She’d love to see the house fixed up a little nicer, if she were to have Nancy visiting more often. Hell, she’d love to do the job herself.
Dorothy realized she no longer wanted to be chained to the rented hospital bed. She hadn’t had a friend in so long. Nancy, with her sweet demeanor, and understanding eyes, made Dorothy want to walk, to move around, to clean her own damn house…to be a good friend.
Smiling, Dorothy laid her head against the pillow and waited for Nancy. At this point, if Pudge came home and found the nurse snooping, Dorothy didn’t care. Nancy would fight for her, and Pudge wouldn’t hold the cards any longer.
With friendship and long-needed companionship on the brain, Dorothy was determined to make a comeback.
When Nancy entered the room carrying a large duffle bag, Dorothy said, “Before you tell me what you’ve found, I want you to know that I’m really excited you’re here. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a…friend to talk to. You’ve inspired me, Nancy. I want to lose the weight and get out of this bed. Go for coffee, go for a run.” She chuckled. “The only time I’d ever think I’d want to run is if someone was pointing a gun at me. But not any more. I’m ready to get healthy.”
Nancy laughed as she brought over the duffle bag. Hell, she didn’t just laugh, she cackled, the sound eerily familiar and unsettling. Dorothy couldn’t put her finger on her sudden edginess, but then she shrugged off the feeling. This was Nancy. Her new friend.
“Very touching,” Nancy said as she unzipped the bag, then dumped the contents on Dorothy’s legs.
Shackled to the bed by her weight, Dorothy panicked and made several attempts to roll and dislodge the disgusting things lying on top of her legs. Years of not using her muscles had her sweating and panting. Fear of what Nancy had discovered had her heart beating out of control and her mind racing.
Pudge had been very bad.
“Oh my God,” Dorothy gasped. “W…what is all of this?” Shocked, she stared at the bloody clothes and sharp medical instruments. “This has to be part of a costume. Why else would Pudge have—?”
“I doubt this is,” Nancy said as she held up a dildo. “Or this.” She showed her more clothes stained with what appeared to be a lot of dried blood.
Sickened, Dorothy mumbled, “Dear Lord.”
“Praying won’t help you,” Nancy said, her tone no longer sweet and compassionate.
Frowning, Dorothy glanced away from the filth on her bed, and looked to the other woman. “You’re right. We should go to the police. If Pudge has hurt someone…”
Dorothy knew in her heart that this was Rick’s fault. He’d screwed up Pudge’s head. Dorothy had witnessed Pudge’s beatings, and the night Rick had died, she’d learned the bastard had been raping his own child for years. Something
he’d told Dorothy as he’d punched her in the head. Told her she couldn’t do anything about it. But she had done something. She’d killed Pudge’s tormentor, then laid him to rest in pieces.
But what if they did go to the police and report Pudge? Would the cops investigate their family’s past? If they did, or if Pudge went under psychological treatment, they could find out what had really happened to Rick. Dorothy would go to jail. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Between Rick and her weight, Dorothy had grown tired of being a prisoner.
“Let me see that,” Dorothy demanded, and grabbed what looked to be a maintenance worker’s uniform shirt. She checked the size, then sighed with relief. “It’s a double XL, Pudge would swim in this thing.” She tossed it aside. “I told you I thought I heard other people at the house. I bet Pudge is holding onto these things for someone else. Did you find any drugs?”
Nancy shook her head, and Dorothy swore the other woman eyed her with perverse amusement. No, not Nancy. Nancy was helping her. The thought of Pudge being involved in something that could drag them down had her paranoid.
“Okay, listen,” Dorothy began, a plan formulating in her mind. “Why don’t you put this stuff back where you found it? I don’t want Pudge to know we were snooping.”
“So you expect me to allow you to live alone with a murderer?” Nancy asked.
Dorothy shook her head, and answered Nancy honestly, “Pudge isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, if you get my meaning, and couldn’t pull off killing a person and getting away with it. That child is and always will be a door mat. Murderer.” She shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.”
Nancy leaned over the bed and began stuffing the stained clothes in the bag. When she held up the scalpel, light glistened off the sharp edge. “Are you sure about that? If I were you, I’d be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of my own child.”
Still holding the scalpel, Nancy grabbed her hair, then tugged. “You should be.”
“Pudge?” Dorothy whispered, and began shaking. She stared in utter disbelief as Pudge tossed the wig to the floor. “I…I…”
“I, I, I,” Pudge mimicked. “Did you really think I would be stupid enough to allow you to have access to my things? When you threatened my inheritance, I knew I had to make sure Gretchen didn’t come see you…ever.”
When Pudge sent her a vicious grin, Dorothy asked, “Did you…hurt Gretchen?”
“I did more than hurt her. You needed a new nurse. Honestly, I planned to just fill her shoes to make sure you didn’t change your will or beneficiary.”
“Pudge, honey, I wasn’t going to do that.”
“No? Then you were just going to have her snoop through my things?” Pudge shrugged, then put the scalpel in the duffle bag. “I guess it doesn’t matter now. But what does matter is that you can’t be trusted.”
Pudge peeled off the nurse’s nose, and then the plump cheeks. After dropping them on the bed tray, Pudge pulled the shirt off, and tossed it aside. “Look who’s the stupid one now,” Pudge said, and showed off the padding that had once been Nancy’s ample breasts, thick stomach and hips. “You couldn’t even recognize your own child. So here’s what I’m going to do with you.”
Shaking, Dorothy couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. What had happened to her baby? “Pudge, I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me. Please,” she begged.
“If I was going to kill you, you’d have been dead a long time ago. Do you really think I enjoy feeding your fat face, wiping your ass, changing your disgusting colostomy bag? Do you think I like living here with you? That I’m living the fucking dream? Hell, no. But I want your money, and to get it, I need you to die…naturally.”
Relief washed over Dorothy, until she caught a wicked glint in Pudge’s eyes. “What are you going to do with me?”
“The better question is what am I going to do to you?” Pudge replied, and snatched the TV remote and phone off of Dorothy’s bed tray. “Guess what that is? Absolutely nothing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And you thought I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. Let me lay it out for you. I will no longer take care of you. Those bed sores can fester until they’re infected and reek as much as your colostomy bag, which I refuse to change—ever. Your food demands…well, I won’t starve you, but kiss your snack cakes good-bye. As for your phone and TV privileges, all gone. I own you, Mama.”
Dorothy stared at the TV remote Pudge held. Without TV, what did she have? Because she had no friends or family worth speaking to, she didn’t have much use for the phone. But her TV…she’d go crazy without it. Panic bubbled from within the depths of her soul. She couldn’t imagine lying in the hospital bed all day, alone, with nothing to do. “Please,” she begged Pudge. “At least let me keep the TV.”
“Seriously? The TV is your only concern?” Pudge chuckled. “You’re pathetic. If I were you, I’d be more concerned about—”
A phone rang. Pudge reached into the bag that had been part of the nurse disguise and pulled out a cell phone. Dorothy thought about screaming with the hope of alerting the caller to her dire situation, but Pudge answered the call in the kitchen.
Seconds later, Pudge returned. “I’ve got to leave soon. I don’t trust you to be quiet while I’m showering, or even when I’m gone, so…” Pudge opened the nurse’s bag and pulled out a roll of duct tape and a set of handcuffs.
Her earlier panic morphed into raw terror. “Please don’t do this,” she begged as Pudge tore tape off the roll. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be good.”
Pudge cuffed Dorothy’s hands around the bedrail, then pressed the tape over her mouth. “I know you will. You have no choice.”
Chapter 18
EDEN SLUNG THE computer bag over her shoulder, then turned to Hudson, “Ready?”
He pushed off the wall of one of WBDJ’s editing rooms. “That’s it?”
She smiled. “I told you it wouldn’t take me long to finish this last segment. Thanks for your help,” she said to David.
The cameraman nodded his head. “My pleasure. I’m sure gonna to miss working with you. Don’t forget about us little people when you get all big and famous,” he said, then gave her a hug.
She looked over David’s shoulder, and met Hudson’s gaze. While his eyes didn’t hold even a hint of jealousy, the disappointment she saw in them made her stomach drop, and her heart race with indecision. She’d rekindled her relationship with Hudson on the cusp of beginning a new career change—in another state. Now she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to move. Yes, she wanted the Network job. Going national, with the opportunity of syndication, would take her career to a level she’d never imagined. Only her drive to be on top would cost her Hudson. He had a life, and his position with CORE, here in Chicago. What would he do in New York? Would he even consider moving for her? Was she even ready to take their relationship to that level?
As David released her and then spoke with Hudson, she realized she had some serious thinking to do. The realtor had left her a voice message this morning with regards to showing her townhouse to several potential buyers. Plus, her agent had emailed her the itinerary for next week’s trip to New York, along with the Network contract to review. Weeks ago, she’d been ecstatic over the upcoming career opportunity. Instead of enthusiasm over the new move and job, her attention, her excitement now revolved around Hudson and what their future could hold.
Damn, him holding her, filling her body, her heart, her soul with the love she’d denied herself for too long. She knew in her gut she loved him. Even when she’d ended their relationship two years ago, she’d loved him. The fear of rejection, of failing, of allowing their relationship to step in the way of her career, had driven her to end things with him. Now she’d trade those lost years, maybe even the Network job, to have the chance to discover what their life together would have been like if only she’d taken the risk.
Risk. She’d taken on the pseudonym because she was a risk taker when it
came to her career. Could she risk her heart and her career for Hudson?
Instead of focusing on the uncertainty of what their relationship would eventually become, she forced her attention to something less complicated—the killer and his DVDs. The investigation, while frustrating and gruesome, was straightforward when compared to the complexity of her heart. Find the identity of the third victim, as well as the possible fourth, and stop the killer. Only they didn’t have much time. Another DVD would be on her doorstep by Monday morning.
David shook Hudson’s hand, then waved to her. “See y’all,” he said, and left the room.
“Do you want to go back to my place, or to CORE?” she asked Hudson.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Rachel sent me a text while you were working. She’s emailing me everything she’s found on the dentist.”
“I’ve been thinking. Now that we have Dr. Brian Westly’s ID, maybe we should go to the police. I know the killer said no cops, but—”
“We still don’t have a body. And according to his receptionist, Westly went on vacation.”
“Permanently.”
He half-chuckled. “That was bad. I’m worried Rachel’s dark sense of humor is rubbing off on you.”
“I wish her smarts would.” The girl really was a brainiac. Nudging him with her bag, she breezed past him and into the hallway. “So, back to my place?”
“Yeah, hopefully we’ll—”
David rounded the corner, his dark eyes bright with excitement. “Feel like reportin’ one more story, ya know, for ol’ time’s sake?”
After she’d received the offer from Network last month, Eden had told the station manger she’d finish the beauty pageant series, but she wouldn’t take on any other assignments. Aside from her relationship with Hudson, when it came to her job, she didn’t like to leave things unfinished, and she’d worried the possible WBDJ assignments might overlap with her move to New York.
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