“That sonofabitch is dead!” Suzy yelled. “I’ll kill him myself!”
“How in the world did you manage to get away from him?” Charmee asked.
“It took a while for me to formulate a plan. I waited several months. I set up recording equipment of my own in the apartment then left work early one day. On the drive, I sent him a text, telling him I was done with it all. Then, I waited. Sure enough, he showed up at my apartment. I let him in then purposely provoked him. I asked why he went to such lengths to hurt me and why he wanted the relationship to continue when he knew I didn’t want to be in it. I even brought up the night he drugged Resa and I then recorded him forcing us to perform sex acts. Illegal sex acts on unwilling, intoxicated individuals. My ploy worked. He told me everything while beating the shit out of me. Between blows, he admitted he screwed around with my birth control pills because he wanted me to get pregnant.”
Suzy gasped. “He didn’t!”
“Yes, he did.” Sam shook her head in disgust. “He actually said he thought a child would bind us together.”
“What a delusional bastard,” Suzy whispered.
“His anger increased when he said knew about the pregnancies and how I lied to him. He told me he would never forgive me for killing his offspring. He even knew I was looking for another job. He said only death would end our relationship and he would kill me before letting me go. I got it all on video.”
“Oh, my God!” Charmee gasped. “He agreed to sign an agreement after you showed him the video, right?”
Sam nodded. “Yes. I made him pay me $250,000 too so I could buy Lily Belle. He had to give me his video and I gave him mine. I warned him if he tried to fuck with me I would fight back with all I had. The threat worked—for a while.”
“You took money from him?”
“Yes, Mom. I made him buy my partnership in the firm out. That way, from an outsider’s point of view, nothing would seem amiss. Attorneys hop around from firm to firm all the time. He owed me. I used the money to pay for the building and the renovations.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Suzy whispered then jumped from the chair. She raced inside the house.
Reaching over, Charmee brushed her fingers over the scar in Samantha’s hairline. “I don’t know what to say. What you went through…what you risked.”
“Because of me,” Resa sobbed. “I’ll never get over what you did for me. How can I?”
“Let me go get you a cool rag,” Charmee offered.
“No, I’ll do it. Need to do the same as Suzy.”
Resa rose and went inside. Charmee waited until the door shut before asking, “So Richard came to the service today and threatened you again?”
Sam nodded. “Yes, and I got it all on video, which he has no clue about. I need to figure out how to use it to our advantage.”
“Video? How? Does the church have cameras?”
Turning the laptop to face her mother, Sam pointed to the watch. “Bradford gave me this on Thanksgiving. It has recording capabilities. I turned it on the second I spotted Richard in the vestibule. I want you to watch it first before I show it to Resa and Suzy.”
“Okay.”
“Here, in case they’re within earshot.” Sam handed her mother an earbud then clicked play.
Something inside Charmee’s soul broke in two. Fury made her entire body shake. She wanted to choke the last breath from the bastard’s throat. The intense feelings were scary and foreign.
The video ended. Charmee handed back the earbud. “What do you think he meant about another person playing us?”
Returning the laptop to its original position, Sam clicked a few buttons, pulling up the news report from the Sentinel Record. “I found this article earlier. It’s the only recent overdose in the paper. The woman looks familiar, yet the name Maria Santos Ramirez doesn’t ring any bells. Does it to you?”
Charmee’s hand flew to her mouth. Turning the screen so she could see to verify her fears, it took her several seconds to speak. “You recognize her from the picture at Nana’s. Maria was Big Sam’s prom date. He told me about her when we first met. Maria was his first—you know—romantic partner.”
Sam’s heart skipped two beats. “I knew she looked familiar! But this doesn’t make any sense! The article stated Maria was in prison for years and only recently paroled. How does Richard even know who she is, much less assume she’s got an ax to grind with us?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps she never got over their breakup?”
“Next question—do I show Resa and Suzy the video or tell them the highlights?”
“Knee-jerk response: No. Yet keeping things from each other cost us all dearly. Perhaps it’s time for a new tradition? All four of us will be working toward the same goal, so we should be aware of assets and liabilities of the situation.”
Sam bit her lip, unsure if she agreed or not. She spent too many years hiding things. “You’re the matriarch now so it’s your call. Not mine.”
Charmee’s stomach juices went into overdrive. “Tell them.”
Sam nodded. “Okay. I need to focus on finding out what the hell is going on and prepare an attack strategy before Richard beats me to the punch.”
“Bad choice of words, Samantha.”
“Sorry.”
Charmee mulled over the disturbing thoughts brewing inside her mind. The ultimate role of a parent, no matter the age of a child, is to protect them. At all costs. She didn’t have much time before unable to do something.
Suzy and Resa returned, each looking as though they might throw up again any second.
Sam stared at all three then cleared her throat while turning the laptop their direction. “This is what we’re up against.”
The color drained from both women’s faces while watching and listening to the interactions between Richard and Sam.
“I think I’m having an aneurysm. What does he mean? Who’s threatening us and why?”
“I don’t know, Suzy. I’m trying to figure it out.”
“Maybe he’s lying? Trying to scare you?” Suzy offered. “After what you did for Resa, he knows you’ll do anything to protect those you love.”
“Interesting and valid point.” Sam took a drink of wine while shutting down the laptop.
“I don’t give a shit if he’s lying about that part or not. What I do care about is his violent behavior and what he’s done to Sam and Resa. There’s only one way to make sure he’s no longer a threat to them, or anyone else.”
Resa’s head bobbed in agreement. “Charmee’s right on the mark, Sam. We went over what to do before, remember? He had us cornered, which is why we decided the best route was the agreement. Going to the police means the possibility he’ll release the video before getting a slap on the wrist in court. Then he’ll come back at us with a vengeance. Even if we somehow get lucky and he’s sentenced to prison for a few years…”
“Never happen in our court system,” Charmee interrupted. “Not even with all the recent sexual assault and abuse cases hitting the news. On the slim chance Richard is arrested and convicted, the minimal time behind bars will do nothing except give him opportunity to stew while plotting against us when free.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Sam whispered. “I’m hoping grief has made me hallucinate, because it sounds to me like you all are suggesting committing a major crime.”
Leaning closer, Charmee’s eyes locked with her daughter’s. “You bought a gun because you are afraid of him. I assume you considered the possibility you might need to use it?”
Sam’s eyes widened from shock. “Of course I did. For protection in case needed. Not to commit premeditated murder.”
Charmee embraced her child, pulling her close. “No one will ever find out if we think things through; do it right.”
“What about the video?” Resa asked. “You kept a copy of the one you made so you know he did too. We need to find, and destroy, the video he made first.”
“We’ll need to work a so
lid plan and execute it. Then I’ll be able to go without worrying about my babies.”
Pulling away from her mother’s hug, Sam stared into her eyes. “Be able to go? What are you saying, Mom?”
Clearing her throat, Charmee squared her shoulders. “I planned on telling you all Sunday but then we found out about Nana. I didn’t want to mention it tonight yet after what Samantha shared, I don’t see any choice.”
Tears ran down Suzy’s face. She could tell from the tone in her mother’s voice the news would be devastating. “Mom? What’s wrong?”
“Stage four cancer. Anaplastic large cell lymphoma to be exact.”
“Dear Jesus!” Resa exclaimed.
“Oh, Mom,” Sam gasped. Her mother’s change in attitude and behavior suddenly made sense. Recalling the conversation in her bedroom the night of the open house and her flippant response about the health scare made her blush. “You found out after your surgery, didn’t you?”
Pursing her lips, Charmee nodded. “Yes. The implants leaked, which is why I went in to begin with. The doctor didn’t like some of the levels in the blood work, so he sent me to an oncologist. It’s, uh, how I reconnected with Bradford. He has prostate cancer.”
“Are you going to start treatment soon? Chemo? Radiation? Are there other options like maybe stem cells? Did you get a second opinion?”
“Breathe, baby.”
Sam’s entire body shook.
“It doesn’t matter when I found out, Samantha, or the treatment options. What matters is I have it, and Bradford and I both made the choice not to attempt to extend our lives while living in misery from the introduction of more harmful substances into our bodies.”
Sam didn’t know if her heart could withstand any more pain before exploding. “You’re giving up?”
“I waited too long, Samantha. With treatment, perhaps it will give me an extra six months. I’m not going to put all of us through such heartache and misery. Period.”
Between her tears, Suzy managed, “How long without treatment?”
Charmee swallowed hard. Saying the words out loud to her children would make it all real. “Three months.”
Sam couldn’t contain the pain any longer. Hanging her head, she sobbed. “I…need to wrap my head around all this. I can’t. This is too much! Big Sam…Nana…now you?”
“Fall apart later, Samantha Marie. Now’s the time to plan out the best course of action to take out Richard. I want my family’s safety secure before I pass on. This isn’t about you and Resa. This affects Suzy, Reed, and the kids. We end Richard Benton.”
Raising her head while wiping away tears, Sam whispered, “My God, Mom. What you’re proposing…”
“Is the only way to end the nightmare, Samantha. I know it. You know it. Going to the police will end with a slap on the wrist. Blackmailing Richard hasn’t worked. Look what he’s done! An arrest will piss him off. This situation will only end with the death of one or the other—look how many times it’s happened before! The news reports all the time about domestic violence cases ending in death. I won’t let you be the one who dies. Period. And I know you, Samantha. You thought about killing him too.”
“Yes, Mom, I have. But thinking and doing are two very different things.”
“Protecting my family comes first, no matter what. My death sentence will allow me to take a lowlife, piece-of-shit bastard along for life’s final ride.”
“Someone cue the Twilight Zone theme. We just crossed into a dimension I never thought possible.” Suzy refilled her glass then proceeded to down it in one gulp. “Nana’s dead. My sister’s psychotic ex-boyfriend is on the hunt. An unknown perv has a beef with the family. Mom’s dying and now, we’re sitting here talking ourselves into killing someone. Unreal. Like there isn’t enough fucked-up shit on my plate.”
Sam was at a loss for words as she processed the craziness.
Charmee took Samantha’s hands in her own. “You know what I’m proposing is the only real option to end this. You said it yourself on the video—you don’t want to spend the rest of your life jumping at shadows, waiting for him to pounce on you, or God forbid, one of the others in the family. From what you shared with us, it’s not a stretch to assume all of us are targets.”
Sam snapped out of her funk. “Are you serious? Do you all realize the risks and the consequences if we screw up and get caught, not to mention the moral and ethical dilemmas from snuffing out a life? The fact we’re crossing legal lines we’ll never, ever be able to come back from once we take the first step?”
“Let me ask you a question, daughter: Do you think he’ll change? Have a come-to-Jesus moment and turn into a real human being?”
Recalling the look on Richard’s face with each blow he landed, the steely determination, the blackness to his eyes the absence of remorse, the pure enjoyment beaming across his face from causing pain and fear, Sam shook her head. “No.”
“Then it’s settled. He hurt you and Resa in ways I can’t begin to fathom. He’s threatened our family. Yes, I’m sure. Like Suzy said earlier, the motherfucker’s dead. My vote, darling daughter, is death. Whatever we plan, we make sure it leads back to me. If I get caught, so be it. I won’t live long enough to stand trial anyway.”
Unable to stop them, Sam’s emotions burst out in a demented laugh. “I never thought those words would spew forth from your mouth. Sorry for cackling as though a deranged hyena, but I think my touch with sanity just snapped. My ethics professor at U of A is rolling over in his grave.”
“People do lots of weird, crazy things when under a tremendous amount of stress. If I get caught, I’ll plead temporary insanity.” Charmee winked.
“Count me in,” Suzy added. “I can’t wait to spit on his grave.”
“Number three.” Resa nodded, feeling a sense of hope budding inside her chest for the first time since the awful night at Sam’s apartment.
Staring at the determined faces around the table, tears ran down Sam’s cheeks. So many emotions swirled inside her heart, while the logical, legal side of her brain screamed to get up and run before giving another second’s consideration to the reprehensible, illegal plan. “I don’t know what to say or how to feel. I can’t believe you all are contemplating murder.”
Rising to her feet, Resa moved next to Sam and then knelt. “We are. For you. For me. For your family. For every other woman Richard’s hurt or will hurt.”
Suzy joined the trio, pulling them all into an awkward hug. “It’s time you let others have your back, Sam.”
For several minutes, the foursome clung to each other in silence, each drawing strength from the other while struggling with their own worries and fears for the future.
Sam’s cell buzzed with the tone from the alarm system. She broke the embrace, snatching it from the middle of the table.
Staring at the screen of the video from the front porch camera, she grimaced. A man pounded on the door. Sam gasped when he turned around and saw his face before he leaned against the building, sliding down the wall then curling up into a ball.
“What’s wrong? Is it Richard?”
Looking across the table at Suzy, Sam winced. “No. It’s Kip. He’s at my place, and judging by his body movements, he’s been drinking.”
“Holy shitballs!”
“Suzanne!”
Suzy gave her mother a sheepish grin.
“I’ll go check on him.” Sam pocketed the phone. She didn’t realize the amount of booze she’d consumed until standing.
“You’ll do no such thing in your current state of inebriation.”
“Mom, I can’t leave him passed out on my porch! Someone might roll him.”
“Then call the police and have him picked up.”
“No!” Suzy interrupted, cringing at the outburst. “If he gets a DUI, he won’t be of any help to Reed.”
Charmee sighed. “Fine. Let me call Bradford and ask him to take Kip home.”
Sam and Suzy exchanged thankful glances while Charmee went inside to retr
ieve her phone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
GRABBING A FIFTH of bourbon from the pantry in the kitchen—the same place where his father used to keep his stash—Kip took several swigs straight from the bottle. Besides his bedroom, the kitchen used to be his favorite place in the house. Now, staring at memories of the fake existence he led his entire life, he felt like a stranger peering in the window.
While Grayson was with him, he abstained from drinking. Once he took his son back to Memphis, he continued to try and steer clear of the bottle, but the siren’s call of the whiskey broke through the thin wall of attempted sobriety like a raging bull.
Making his way to the garage, he let out a long, heavy sigh. The office was closed for the next two days out of respect for Caroline Chapman’s death, which was great on one hand—he didn’t have put on a forced smile and face Reed.
Doing so at the funeral had been hard enough.
On the other hand, he had four-plus days to wallow in booze and self-pity while his mind absorbed all the craziness of the last two weeks.
How was he supposed to grapple with the entire nightmare? More and more shit kept getting thrown on top of an overloaded pile. The two people he thought were his parents were dead, the woman named on a piece of paper as his birth mother overdosed before he even had a chance to meet her, and the funeral Kathy insisted he attend earlier was for his grandmother rather than the sweet old lady whose jokes sometimes made him burst out laughing.
At the entrance to the garage, Kip banged his head against the doorframe over and over. “Oh, don’t forget, I screwed my boss’s wife and she’s my half-sister. Wake up, man! Wake up from this fucking epic disaster!”
He took another long swig.
Stepping into the garage, he flicked on the overhead light. In the corner sat the things he never wanted to look at yet had little choice. He didn’t want to go through the boxes. For eight months he had ignored the papers. He was heartbroken from Kathy kicking him out, returned to his childhood home to seek solace from his parents, and lick the wounds to his heart.
Fatal Agreements Page 18