Fatal Agreements

Home > Other > Fatal Agreements > Page 15
Fatal Agreements Page 15

by Ashley Fontainne


  Maria’s mouth watered while staring at the strange woman across from her as she snorted up what Maria prayed was cocaine. She hadn’t experienced being high in years. “Please tell me you’re holding blow?”

  After snorting, Kathy nodded. “Damn straight shit, too. You want?”

  “More than you can imagine, but I can’t.”

  “Worried you’ll pop a random drug test at the halfway house?”

  Maria stiffened. “No.”

  “Stop the games, Maria. I know who you are, and like I mentioned, I came here to find you. We have a lot in common.”

  “We do?”

  “I read about your legal troubles online. Your first arrest was less than a year after you gave birth and then four years later, you got sent to the pen. The rich fuckers ruined your life. You want to make the Chapman family pay for making you give up your kid, right?”

  Maria felt dizzy. She said nothing, gaze bouncing between Caroline’s dead body and Kathy’s smiling face.

  “I know you do because if in your shoes, I would want the same thing. I think we’re like two peas hanging around in the same pod. Remember, I heard it all. Money and revenge—they make the world an interesting place!”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Gathering up the butts in the ashtray, Kathy reached across the table, grabbing Maria’s tea cup. On a hunch, she poked a pinky into the sugar, bringing it to her tongue. Though faint, there was a hint of bitterness. She smiled. “I happen to be married to your son, which makes me your daughter-in-law. Nice to finally meet you, Mom. Oh, and you’re also a grandmother. Our son, Grayson, is eight. He looks like his father only with lighter skin.”

  Maria’s knees wobbled. She clung to the railing for support. “A son? I had a boy? And a grandchild too?”

  Stunned by the response, Kathy searched for any signs Maria was lying. All the color drained from her face, her eyes wide saucers full of shock. It didn’t look like an act. Was she telling the truth earlier about Richard Benton?

  “Sit before you faint.”

  Following the instruction as a wave of dizziness made her head spin, Maria flopped into the chair. “What’s my son’s name?”

  “Kip.”

  “You said you’re from Memphis? Is that where he’s from too?”

  “No. We moved there after high school. We both grew up in Hot Springs.”

  Stunned by the news, Maria’s stomach burned. “He was here the whole time? Oh, dear God. I never knew.”

  Kathy nodded toward Caroline’s body. “Because this old crusty bitch didn’t want you to find out. From what I overheard earlier, she didn’t know the sex of the baby or the names of the adoptive parents either.”

  The memory of the night she bore—dear God, a son—filled Maria’s mind. The baby came fast. Caroline stood next to her, back to the doctor, never once glancing back during the entire experience. “You’re probably right. I meant what I said earlier—I did love Stan. I cared for Big Sam, but he broke my heart graduation night. When he left for college, Stan started hanging around the country club more. I could tell he was interested in me, and to be honest, I encouraged it. I wanted to hurt Big Sam.”

  “Not trying to be rude, but we don’t have time for you to wander down memory lane. We need to go. Now. Like I said before, I’ll give you a ride and help remove all traces you were ever here, but only if you agree to help me. Well, help Kip I mean.”

  It took a few seconds to comprehend everything, yet finally, Maria figured it out. “I don’t know how you found out, but you did. You planned on doing the same thing—blackmailing Caroline for money and you want my help to do so.”

  “Partially true. Kip only wants what’s rightfully his, and he asked me to find you so you two could meet and you both get fair compensation for all the years spent apart.”

  Though not a woman accustomed to feeling remorse, Maria felt a lump of tears in her throat. “He knows about me and wants to meet?”

  “Yes. He sent me because he didn’t want things to get all emotional the first time you two met. But again, let’s discuss this on the road. We need to leave before we get caught. My car’s not far.”

  Looking over once more at Caroline, Maria nodded. “I, uh, changed my mind. Before we go I need one line to clear the fogginess, okay?”

  “Sure.” Kathy smiled.

  Maria snorted. Pinching her nose to alleviate the burning, she muttered, “How do you know all this when even I didn’t know?”

  To test the theory rolling around inside her head, Kathy replied, “Duh! Did you forget about the little package you left my husband with his birth records and other papers?”

  Maria’s vision blurred. Her heart beat in erratic thumps. The girl’s words made no sense. Wading through the fogginess inside her mind, she managed, “I never had proof, only the truth on my side. I didn’t send…oh, God. You’re working for Richard, aren’t you? And he’s working for the family to help keep the secret safe. I knew it!”

  Backing away, aware Maria’s body was reacting to the combination of cocaine, sleeping and anxiety pills, she let a devious smirk appear. “I work solo like you, Maria. But you know what? The old Chapman bitch played you like a freaking fiddle! She laced the sugar with drugs. Guess she didn’t want to give you any more hush money so she decided to off you. In her own home! The old gal’s got nerve! Er, well, she had nerve.”

  Maria heard the words yet couldn’t respond as her body convulsed.

  Stepping to the right, Kathy bent down, using the edge of her shirt to flip open the wallet. Grabbing the wad of cash, she shoved it into her pocket then picked up the two pill bottles, stuffing them into her bra.

  Ignoring the weird noises coming from Maria, Kathy went to the table. Taking the sugar bowl, she dumped the contents inside the tea pot. She waited a few seconds until the powder dissolved before trotting down the stairs to the small rose garden.

  With a smile on her face, she watered the sticks with the deadly concoction.

  “Two heirs out of the picture in one day! Damn but I’m good. Hmm, I can’t leave Maria’s corpse here. The cops will investigate and ruin my plans.”

  Scanning the large yard, she contemplated her options. She could wait until the cover of darkness and bury Maria’s body deep in the woods, but that was a risky plan. What if one of the cops brought a dog or someone out for a midnight stroll walked up?

  “Calm down and think this through, idiot. She’s on parole for drug charges. She’s got uppers and downers in her system—yes! Brilliant idea! She fell off the wagon, did too much and overdosed! Boom! Investigation over. Sorry, Maria, but the truth is, no one gives a rat’s ass about a former junkie dying. You’ll be one less parolee clogging up the system; a win-win situation for all!”

  One problem solved, Kathy went back to the deck, replacing the tea pot on the table. The wind picked up, blowing dead leaves across the yard. The faint rumble of thunder from the west made her frown.

  Glancing up to the sky at the swirling, gun-metal gray clouds moving in, she scowled. Rain meant muddy footprints.

  Maria’s loud moans turned to soft whimpers as the convulsions ceased. Kathy watched as the rise and fall of her chest slowed, waiting until it finally stopped.

  Picking up Maria’s purse, Kathy dug around. “Let’s see what’s in here.”

  The contents of Maria’s bag were minimal. A wallet with no cash or credit cards, only a state-issued ID, a tube of lipstick, one tampon, and a cheap cell phone. She hoped the contents of Maria’s room were the same. A twinge of worry made her shiver. There was no way for her to find out, unless she risked breaking in to pilfer around. The woman had been in prison for years. Kathy doubted the skank hid any blackmail documents in a cell for that long.

  The sensation passed as quickly as it arrived when she remembered Maria said she didn’t have any proof, only the truth.

  Turning her attention to the phone, she smiled. It was a flip phone with only calling and texting capabilities. It containe
d no GPS, which meant Maria’s movements couldn’t be traced electronically. Brushing it against her jacket, she flipped it open. The call history contained less than ten numbers, but there were numerous texts. No names were attached yet it didn’t matter.

  Kathy had no doubt after reading several who received them.

  Pocketing the phone to dispose of later, she laughed. “Oh, you did enjoy the petty torments, didn’t you? I bet you spent all your time stalking them, sending these at precise times for maximum impact. What a devious girl! In another life, we could’ve been friends. Stay put, Maria. I’m going to get my car and take you on the last ride of your life. And don’t worry—I’ll leave you on West Mountain. The woods are quite beautiful, and secluded, this time of year. Ha! Thanks, ladies, for making my trip so freaking memorable and profitable!”

  Kathy sprinted down the driveway toward the car, determined to dispose of Maria before the swollen clouds released the rain.

  While jogging, she concentrated on how to handle the twisted events, including Richard Benton’s role. If he turned out to be a problem, the body count would increase.

  Kathy smiled.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sunday, November 27, 2016

  “THE BODY OF an adult female was discovered by hikers on West Mountain earlier today. In a statement released by Hot Springs Police Department spokesman, Sgt. Larry Teague, the cause of death remains unknown, though foul play isn’t suspected. The body was sent to the state crime lab for an autopsy. The name of the deceased is being withheld until notification is made to the next of kin. Stay tuned to Channel 7 for more updates on the story.”

  Charmee grimaced while turning off the television. “How sad for her family to find out such news during the holidays.”

  Bradford nodded in agreement. “I sure don’t miss the days of knocking on someone’s door to tell them a loved one passed away.”

  Charmee shuddered at the thought. She didn’t wish to discuss death since her own loomed on the horizon. Watching Bradford from across the dining room table as he studied the laptop screen, she smiled, counting her blessings, which were many. She had been married to a wonderful man she loved with all her heart yet after Big Sam passed on, she never entertained the idea of falling in love again.

  After having the total capsulectomy of both implants, the surgeon assured her the symptoms would end and her health improve.

  Dr. Hanford had been wrong.

  The diagnosis of anaplastic large cell lymphoma came a week later. Waiting to meet with the oncologist for the results made her a nervous wreck.

  Then Bradford Wilson walked in.

  Though not a stranger, since they knew each other for years, she was surprised to see him. He came over and sat next to her and started chatting. He was waiting to find out if he had prostate cancer.

  After meeting with the doctor, she sat in her vehicle, unable to move, mind spinning at all the treatment options, including radiation and chemotherapy, until startled by a soft tap on the glass.

  Bradford had been given a death sentence as well.

  They sat in the parking lot inside Charmee’s SUV for hours, talking then crying. Neither one wanted to endure the side effects from treatment options. Both were aware of the physical and mental stressors they would suffer, along with their family members.

  Charmee invited Bradford over to the house for dinner, and they’d been a couple ever since.

  She only shared the diagnosis with Caroline. Since her parents passed years ago and she had no siblings to tell, she went to see her former nemesis. Charmee had issues with Caroline, yet she knew the woman loved Suzanne and Samantha and would step up to the plate to help take care of them once she succumbed to the disease.

  “What’s on your mind, darling?”

  Blowing out a huff of air, Charmee smiled. “Oh, thinking about all the years I wasted harboring silly resentment.”

  “I understand. Reflecting on life is a normal response, considering what we’re facing.”

  Taking a sip of coffee, Charmee stared down at her hands, forcing the tears in her throat back down. “You know, I can’t tell you why Caroline and I fought for so long, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. At least she’ll be here for the girls when I’m gone.”

  Bradford chuckled. “You married her son, replacing her as the top woman in his life. Same thing happened between my mother and wife, Jill. They never reconciled. Both passed away with hate in their hearts because they were too stubborn to admit their faults. I’m glad you decided to clean the slate.”

  “Me too. Listen, I want to thank you again for helping Samantha. I want her issues resolved before I pass. Have you found out what she’s using as leverage to keep Richard away?”

  “No. She only told me about a video recording she made unbeknownst to him, and she has it in a safe and secure location. She didn’t share what was on it.”

  Charmee groaned. “Oh, no. I guess in some ways its good I don’t know all the details. I’m teetering on the verge of killing the guy as it is. If I do, I’ll be dead before the trial starts.”

  Bradford scowled. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Hear what, dear?” Charmee grinned then laughed. “How’s the background research on him coming along?”

  “The guy’s a strange duck, and very, very private. No social media accounts except a business page on Facebook run by the firm’s IT department. Never been married, no children, an only child, and both parents are deceased. Received his juris doctorate from Ole Miss then moved back to Arkansas and hung out a shingle. His parents died in a car accident his last year of law school on their way back from visiting him. Their life insurance proceeds gave him plenty of capital to inject into his practice.”

  “That leaves out money as a motive for seducing Samantha.”

  “Charmaine, money means nothing to men like Richard Benton. Any man who wants to completely dominate a woman and has no qualms about using any means, physical, mental or even fear to do so, doesn’t thrive on acquiring wealth. Richard’s behavior toward Samantha is classic narcissism. He feels no remorse for his actions; no empathy for how they affect the emotions of others. Narcissists tend to have an uncanny knack for sensing weakness in other people, using the knowledge to exploit them for their own personal gain. What Samantha shared with you, and with me, is proof.”

  Tears welled up in Charmee’s eyes. “I hate him for what he did to her—what he’s still doing—but I’m even angrier at myself for being so blind.”

  Bradford shut the laptop then rose, motioning for Charmaine to his open arms. She did, and he hugged her close, burying his nose in her hair. He loved the way she smelled.

  “Don’t, Charmaine. Samantha isn’t a child. She’s a grown woman who did what children are supposed to do—she grew up. Sam forged her own path in the world, without the help of her parents. She even tried to handle the abusive relationship on her own, without involving the people she loves. She thought she was protecting her family; kind of like what you’re doing by not telling the girls about the cancer.”

  Charmee nodded. “I get that…to a point. The difference between the two scenarios is one is fixable. The other isn’t. Besides, Samantha’s got enough to deal with, so I’m not adding something else for her to worry about.”

  “Charmaine, you know I love you. In all my sixty-four plus years on this planet I never met a stronger woman, except my mother and wife. But your strength doesn’t change the facts. No matter how much you want it to be different this situation with Richard is Samantha’s battle to fight. Not yours. Hell, she escaped the relationship and is taking every single precaution available. Whatever she’s holding over his head is damaging enough it kept him away for over a year. He’s testing her to see if he can find a weak crack to sneak back through. I guarantee you, after you invited him to the open house he thinks she hasn’t told her family.”

  Heat rushed up Charmee’s chest. “I’ll never forgive myself for interfering. What a fool I am!”
/>
  Bradford chuckled. “You’re a lot of things, but a fool isn’t one of them. Stubborn, yes. A fool? No. You love her and want what’s best. The trouble with that statement is the word you.”

  Stepping away from Bradford’s warm embrace, Charmee nodded. “You’re such an amazing, insightful man. Thank you for well, being you.”

  “Ditto.” Bradford kissed the top of Charmaine’s head. “May I offer one more piece of advice?”

  “Of course.”

  “Stop keeping your illness a secret. Yes, it will be a difficult conversation to have with the rest of the family, but they need to know. Give them time to come to terms with it and to offer their love and support to you.”

  “You think I should?”

  “Honey, in a few weeks, they’ll notice your health is declining on their own. Are you planning on lying to them then as well?”

  “I, uh, damn. I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

  “Which is why I’m here.” Bradford grinned. “Go. Pick up Caroline and then the girls. Take them all out to a nice lunch and then bring them back here. Sometimes keeping a secret is good thing, but in this case, it isn’t. You’ll have the house all to yourself the rest of the afternoon. Bring them here and open up.”

  A warm tear slid down Charmee’s cheek. “You had this little pep talk planned all morning?”

  “Maybe. Now stop dawdling and go rally the troops. I’ll be back later tonight with my grandsons. I promised to take them downtown to see the Christmas lights. We should all go. Remember our pact to live each day to the fullest? Spend as much quality time with our loved ones rather than in the bathroom puking, or so exhausted from medication we never leave the bed?”

  “I do, yes. God, I love you, Bradford. Meeting you like this isn’t fair…”

  “Right back at you, sugar, and life isn’t fair. It’s cruel when trying to live it alone. We’re blessed. Very blessed. God brought us together for a reason, and I don’t take it for granted.”

 

‹ Prev