The Girl on Prytania Street: A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist

by Kira Saito

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. My heart started to race. What if he recognized me? What if he gave me away? What if he whipped out the divorce papers right then and there? Even dressed as a slice of pizza, Anita was stunning; I felt small, invisible, and immensely short. My costume was a cliché, hers was genius. She was a legend, and I was plain old Kate. My hand ached to reach underneath my dress and pull out the Hillbilly doll.

  “You okay?” Chris whispered into my ear.

  “That’s my ex.” The room started to spin, the costume became unbearably hot, and beads of cold sweat started to form between my breasts.

  “You can do this, sugar.”

  “Jennie, is everything alright? You seem rather shaken.”

  You have to do this for Charlene. You have to do this for Zoe. “I’m only terribly shaken by the prospect of meeting such an important couple. Anita Catsberg only owns all of New York.”

  “Oh, your innocence is refreshing.” Mr. Dubois’ eyes sparkled at my nerves.

  Anita and Richard wobbled towards us. They wore smiles on their faces and looked ridiculously happy dressed in their silly costumes. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Reggie,” Anita said giving Mr. Dubois a peck on the cheek.

  “You think so? I’ve kept the show rather low key this year given all that’s happened.”

  “Reginald, you don’t know how to accept a compliment, do you?” I froze at the sound of Richard’s voice but forced a half-smile. Would he recognize my eyes? Would he recognize my smile? My voice even with its fake overly exaggerated accent?

  “Hi, I’m Tom Williams and this is my lovely wife Jennie,” Chris said with a big impressed smile on his face.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Anita extended her hand and Chris gave it a firm shake.

  “A pleasure, any friends of Reginald’s are friends of ours,” Richard said as he shook my hand. Did he recognize the texture of my skin? “Have we met?” he asked studying me carefully.

  “No, I don’t think so unless you’ve seen me around New York.”

  “It’s her eyes. They are the same color as Emilia’s,” Mr. Dubois said. “This is her cousin, Jennie.”

  “Now that explains it.” Richard easily bought Mr. Dubois’ explanation. I was half-relieved and half-disappointed. He couldn’t even remember the pair of eyes that he had stared into for almost fifteen years. Was I that disposable? That insignificant? Had I changed that much? I shouldn’t have cared, but I did care.

  “How does it feel to own practically all of New York?” Chris asked Anita worshipfully. I had to give him credit, he had mad acting skills much better than my own.

  She tossed back her hand and laughed. Even with pepperoni slices covering her face she was the epitome of elegance and grace. Her laugh was deep, husky, and seductive. “I wouldn’t say that I own all of New York.”

  “Anita is modest. That’s her thing. I can’t wait to get married to this gal.” He pulled her close and gave her painted face a kiss. I almost threw up in my mouth.

  “When is the wedding?” I asked torturing myself because it was such a hard habit to break.

  “In the fall,” Richard said proudly. I wondered if he had been that proud when he had married me. Had he been proud of our little civil ceremony followed by lunch at our favorite local greasy spoon?

  “It would have been much sooner if his ex was ready to let go of him. She still hasn’t signed those divorce papers.”

  “Ahh, yes, where there is love hope is always present,” Mr. Dubois said raising his glass in a toast.

  “I doubt that it is love. You know how starter marriages are. You’re young, you both go into it thinking that it’s going to last forever when all you did was make a gigantic mistake and nothing about your choice was logical or even remotely rational. I suppose, Kate is too afraid to face the fact that we made a mistake. I’m more than ready to move on.”

  “Cheers to stupid mistakes.” Anita raised her glass. “God knows that I’ve made my share of them.”

  She sounded nice. Perfectly nice and rational. Perfectly nice, rational, and mature. I bet she didn’t secretly pop pills or give Richard a hard time when things weren’t going her way. I could see why Richard loved her and had decided to adopt a daughter with her rather than having another one with me. She was probably a good mom, no a great mom.

  I had to get out of there. I thought I was ready to face them and to do whatever it took to uncover this story, but I had been wrong. I was taking this personally, way too personally. “My glass is empty, excuse me while I freshen up.” My exterior remained dignified as I walked towards a waiter who stood at the other end of the lawn. I hid behind an oak, grabbed a pink martini, and chugged it down and then another. I reached under my gown and located two pills. I popped them both as I took a third martini from the tray. The young waiter didn’t flinch as he witnessed my little breakdown. I leaned against the tree and took several breaths as the pills entered my bloodstream and made me not give a shit about the hurtful words Richard had spewed out so easily.

  Maybe I had fooled myself for the entire length of our relationship. I had allowed myself to believe that he had loved me. Had I been blind? At that second, I missed Zoe terribly, more than usual. She had been my safety net, the one person that I knew would always be there for me. We had our ups and downs, but, in the end, she had been my rock and I had been hers.

  “Jennie, Mr. Dubois has agreed to give us a private tour of his home, isn’t that wonderful?” Chris placed his arm around me and guided me towards Mr. Dubois who stood waiting a few feet away. Richard and Anita had gone back to the party. They happily chatted with a couple dressed as spaghetti and meatballs.

  “That’s lovely!” I laughed loud enough so Mr. Dubois wouldn’t suspect that I was upset but not loud enough for him to pick up that I was high as hell.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Kate

  “This is gorgeous.” Even through my hazy vision I was able to appreciate the regal beauty of the Dubois residence with its 16-foot ceilings, extravagant chandeliers, moldings enhanced with 22-carat gold leaf, marble mantles, custom designed rugs, ceiling murals, and spacious rooms. Admittedly, the murals and artwork were disturbing, but Mr. Dubois seemed proud of his collection as he ushered us from room to room.

  “Now what is the story behind that painting?” Chris asked pointing towards a group of men hovering over a dead body. They held forks and plates as if feasting on the corpse.

  “Ahh… That is one of my personal favorites. It reminds me that it is better to be the man holding the fork rather than the man lying on the table,” Mr. Dubois explained.

  “I guess that’s interesting. And what’s with the giant statue of the naked woman twisted backward like that?”

  “She’s hysterical, good fellow.”

  The pictures, paintings, and statues made my stomach anxious and I could feel vomit build at the back of my throat. “Is there a bathroom that I may use?” I asked smiling politely hoping to conceal the fact that I was about to hurl.

  “Down the hall and to your right,” Mr. Dubois said.

  I hurried down the hall until I found the door to the bathroom. I had taken too many pills and had drank too many martinis to keep up the charade any longer than another few minutes. I took off my mask and splashed some cold water on my blotchy face. In the mirror, my skin was red despite the amount of makeup I had caked on. I struggled to breathe, my legs started to wobble and soon I fell to the marble floor. My eyes closed and for a few minutes, I lay there not sure whether I was alive or dead.

  “Hey, are you okay? You have to wake up.” I felt someone shake me and then a gush of spray flooded my nostrils. After a few minutes, I was brought back to the land of the living.

  My eyes opened and beside me sat a young girl wearing a golden dress and sparkly pink mask. “Thank you,” I muttered knowing that she given me Naloxone to counteract the impact of the Oxycontin.

  “You can thank me later. Look, we don’t have
much time. I have to show you something.”

  “Who are you?” My dizziness and nervousness were replaced by curiosity as to how this young lady had managed to know that I’d be here and pumped full of drugs.

  “If I show you, you have to promise to keep it a secret.”

  “I promise. I owe you one.” I sat up and looked as my young savior removed her mask. I rubbed my eyes wondering if I had died and was in some kind of parallel universe. “Charlene? Charlene Dubois?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” said the beautiful young girl who looked so much like my own daughter.

  “The entire country is looking for you and you’re at home? Your mother and father are worried sick, reporters are camped outside of your house demanding answers, and you’re here?”

  “Look, it’s complicated. Everything will become clear as long as you promise to keep your mouth shut. Come on now, I have to show you something.” She grabbed me by my wrists and pulled me up from the floor. “Put on your mask and follow me,” she instructed.

  “Where are we going?” I asked following her out of the bathroom and up the enormous spiral staircase. The second floor was dark, the sound of classical music drifted through a double parlor door.

  She put her finger to her lips and pushed open the door ever so slightly. “Look.”

  I peeped through the space.

  At first glance, the scene was normal, there were masked partygoers dancing, drinking, and laughing. The room was large and extravagant as the rest of house with a checked black and white marble floor, gilded golden mirrors, enormous crystal chandeliers and a set of stairs which led to an elevated stage. Tables were decorated with rows and rows of blazing candles and held platters of canapés. Suddenly, the room became utterly silent and the song changed into the waltz and couples started dancing to the tune.

  Fog filled the stage as the couples continued to dance. I looked on in confusion thinking that it was some sort of odd theatre show. The fog cleared and a group of midgets appeared on stage. They ranged in age, race, and gender. They descended from the stage and joined in on the couples as they waltzed. This went on for a few minutes until the music hit a strange crescendo.

  My mouth hung open as sexual acts between the midgets and the couples began to ensue. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. The midgets seemed as if they were drugged up, their eyes devoid of any life or free will. I opened the door a tiny bit wider. I tried to recognize the faces of the adults, but the cloud of fog had now descended upon the entire room and the revolting orgy was concealed under a cloud of secrecy.

  I was about to open the door further when Charlene grabbed my arm. “You can’t go in there. It won’t solve anything.”

  I looked at her in rage. “I can’t stand here and do nothing. Those poor midgets look out of their minds. Is this even legal?”

  “It sucks, I know, but you have to trust me. You’ve got to get back downstairs. Remember, you can’t tell anyone about this. You have to keep your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise.”

  I reached out to touch her to make sure that she was real and not a figment of my imagination. “Yeah, I’m real.” She held out her hand in a Jesus type pose.

  “What kind of game are you playing young lady? You have to tell your parents that you are alive, you’re going to be in so much trouble with the police.”

  Her blue eyes were hard as they studied my face. She gave me that same look that Zoe would often give me, the one that told me I had no clue and was now officially an old person who was behind on the times. “We’ve got to go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the stairs. My legs were still weak from the pills and alcohol, they felt like overcooked spaghetti sticks as they followed her down the stairs and back into the bathroom. She pushed me into a stall and closed the door with her on the other side.

  “Hey, wait.” I tried to open the door, but it was locked from the outside. I sat on the toilet seat to catch my breath, unexpectedly, my eyes began to close, and sleep beckoned me.

  “Jennie? Jennie? Sweetie, are you in there?” Chris’ voice called from the outside of the bathroom door. My eyes opened. I couldn’t remember how long I had been out and if what I had seen had been real or fantasy and what exactly I had seen at all. For me, one of the most common side effects of popping pills were lucid dreams and hallucinations that seemed to blend fantasy with doses of reality. They typically involved anything that I was currently obsessed with, was reading, or had seen on television. Once, after a Walking Dead binge, I had been kicked off a train because I had been convinced that I was surrounded by zombies who were hell-bent on eating me. The other passengers had smiled and put up with me for a few stops until things had taken a violent turn and I had started beating them off with my umbrella.

  “Shit,” I muttered as I grabbed the door handle which opened effortlessly. I scanned the bathroom for any signs of Charlene Dubois. However, there were none. The floor was polished and the only footprints that marked it were my own. “Hello?” I pounded on each of the bathroom stalls. They were all empty. I struggled to remember what had happened but all I could recall was Charlene Dubois hovering over me and then images of sex and midgets. Had I had sex with a midget in the bathroom stall or on the staircase? I lifted up my dress and checked for signs of the deed. There were none.

  “Jennie? Would you like one of my maids to fetch you?” Mr. Dubois asked. You’ve been in there for close to an hour. I know how proper ladies can feel rather embarrassed after they have had one too many drinks.”

  An hour? I glanced at my watch and noted that I had indeed lost an entire hour, another sliver of time that I would never get back. “No, it’s alright. It’s my shoes. I was so excited about being invited that I wore new shoes. I had to rest my feet that’s all.”

  “That’s alright Jennie, we can go home if you like. It’s a shame that you missed the upstairs tour,” Chris said.

  I opened the bathroom door. “Upstairs tour?” I searched Chris’ eyes for any signs that would indicate that he had seen something suspicious. Unless he it hid it well, it appeared that he was having a great time with Mr. Dubois.

  “Gorgeous as every other bit of the property.”

  I covered my confusion with a smile. How much could I really trust Chris? “My feet are really aching, maybe we can call it a night, honey.”

  “I’d insist that you two stay here, but all of the rooms are full, so many friends, so little time.”

  “That’s alright, we’re staying at a cute little hotel down in the Quarter. Thanks for having us. I have something to brag to my buddies about.” Chris put his arms around me and gave Mr. Dubois a firm handshake.

  “Thank you for your kindness,” I said as I gave Mr. Dubois a kiss on the cheek.

  “The pleasure was all mine, dear!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kate

  “So, what did you think?” I asked Chris once we were safely back at the inn and in my room.

  “He seems like a nice fellow, not at all what I expected.” Chris handed me a glass of water which I gladly accepted.

  “Did you see anything strange upstairs or in any other part of the house?”

  “Aside from the paintings and statues, I can’t say that I did. It seemed like any other party except thrown by someone who isn’t worried about how the heck he’s gonna pay the bills next month. What about you, sugar? Did you see something odd?”

  “I might have,” I said taking a sip of water.

  “Like what?”

  “I think I saw Charlene Dubois.”

  “What, wait? Where did you see her?”

  “In the bathroom, I wasn’t feeling well and she … Well … She helped me get back on my feet. I don’t remember the next part clearly, but I do recall people having sex on the stairs.”

  “Whoa, wait. I need a shot of something.” Chris opened the mini bar and poured himself some whiskey. He leaned against the bathroom door. “You’re telling me that you saw Charlene Dubois? How is it possible that
no one else at the party saw her? Somebody would have said something.”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but she was so real. I touched her and spoke to her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She told me not to tell anyone that I saw her.”

  “That’s all? She exposed herself to you in public and then told you not to tell anyone? What’s the sense in that?”

  “I don’t know. It makes no sense really.”

  “What were you doing right before you saw her?”

  “I was … I was …”

  “You were?” Chris finished off his whiskey.

  “Okay, look, I might have taken too many pills and had a little bit too much to drink. I passed out and Charlene gave me some medicine to avoid a possible overdose and then … I think I saw a couple having sex.”

  “Let’s think about this rationally, sugar. You passed out and then Charlene Dubois magically appeared and then you think you saw a couple having sex. I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but that sounds like a hallucination. I’m not one to judge but maybe just maybe you crossed your limit tonight … Popped too many pills and saw things that weren’t actually there.”

  “You kind of are judging me, asshole.”

  “There’s no need for name calling, sugar.”

  “Stop calling me that! I hate that name! Why can’t you at least consider what I saw?”

  “Because I was there, I walked the empty halls with Mr. Dubois and I didn’t see Charlene Dubois and I sure as hell didn’t see a couple having sex. I would have remembered that little detail. What I did see was you hiding behind that oak tree pumping yourself full of pills and martinis and then stumbling into the bathroom when you should have been doing your goddamn job.”