Classic Revenge

by Mitzi Kelly

  "Are you okay?' Trish asked breathlessly. The thought of Millie breaking an arm, or a leg, or worse, had Trish worried.

  "I'm fine. Now, get off me so we can get out of here!"

  Trish's eyes widened, and she held a finger to her lips. She thought she had just heard Tom's bedroom door open. Gesturing frantically with her hand, she motioned for Millie to follow her. They scrambled over to the next door neighbor's trailer and ducked behind it a second before a stream of obscenities flew out Tom's open window. Trish saw Millie purse her lips in disapproval, and she prayed fervently that Millie wasn't about to march over there and give Tom a piece of her mind. The mud sticking to her hair just might give them away.

  But then the cursing stopped, followed by only low muttering, and then the sound of his voice died out altogether. Her relief was short-lived as it suddenly dawned on Trish that Tom might be coming outside to replace his screen. Grabbing Millie's hand, they made a mad dash through the mobile-home park-well, as mad a dash as two older women could make-ducking between trailers and keeping an eye out for anyone following them. It seemed that all they left behind, though, was a wave of barking dogs.

  What seemed like an eternity later, they saw Edna sitting in the car at the entrance of the mobile home park, just as she had been instructed to do. "Let's go," Trish said breathlessly as she practically pushed Millie into the car and then fell in after her.

  Edna looked at them in shock. "What ..."

  "We'll tell you in a minute. Just get out of here!"

  Edna snapped her mouth closed and put the car in gear. When they were a few miles away, Trish took a deep breath of relief and settled down in her seat. That was when she heard the giggling coming from the tiny woman beside her-actual giggling! In disbelief, she turned to Millie. Maybe she had gone into shock or something. Should she slap her, or throw cold water on her? What were you supposed to do when someone went into shock?

  "Either someone tells me what happened back there, or I'm going to stop this car in the middle of the road," Edna snapped. "You both look like you just went mud wrestling."

  Trish looked at both herself and Millie, and then she just couldn't help it. She started giggling too, and then outright laughing. It wasn't fair to Edna, she knew, but when you looked at the situation she and Millie had just been in from a distance, it really was quite funny.

  "The main thing, Edna," she said between chuckles, "is that it was a complete waste of time."

  "Actually, that's not necessarily the case," Millie said, sitting up and reaching into her fanny pack. She opened her hand for all to see. One of Mary's earrings, previously stolen from Sam after Susan's murder, lay nestled in her open palm.

  Edna kept glancing over her shoulder at the earring in Millie's hand, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a silent gasp. Trish could excuse the first time the car swerved, maybe even the second time, but when it happened a third time, she figured they weren't going to do anybody any good dead. "For goodness' sake, Edna, pull over now! You're going to get us all killed."

  "Oh ... oh, yes, okay." Taking the directive literally, Edna crossed two lanes of traffic and pulled into a convenience store.

  Trish sent up a silent prayer of thanks and then turned to Millie. "Where did you find that?"

  "It was in Tom's den. That's why I almost didn't hear Edna honking. I was looking for the other one"

  "That directly ties Tom to Mary's murder, doesn't it?" Edna asked.

  "I would think so. But does it tie him to Susan's mur der?" Trish shuddered, thinking how close they had come to being discovered by Tom in his own house.

  "That's not the only thing I found," Millie boasted. She dropped the earring into Trish's hand and reached back into her fanny pack. "This is strange, though. I'm not sure what it means."

  "What is it?" Trish asked, slightly in awe at what Millie had accomplished that night.

  Millie unfolded a crumpled piece of yellow notebook paper. "It's some kind of list. It was tossed in a corner with some other trash" She peered at the writing. "Turn on the light, Edna"

  "Don't tell me you found a list Tom made detailing the steps to murder?"

  "Very funny, Trish," Millie said absently, and then she began to read. "Wife! ... Children! ... House! ... Job! ... Reputation! These are all written in large letters with exclamation points beside them and underlined. Then, at the bottom of the page, he's written the word `REVENGE!!!!' in all capital letters with four exclamation points, and then, in small handwriting, he's written 'problems are meant to be solved.' This is pretty strange, huh?"

  "It's very strange," Edna agreed.

  Trish tried to put her racing thoughts in order. "Maybe it's actually not that strange"

  When Edna and Millie looked at her, she tried to explain. "What if the top part of the list refers to things he's lost? He could blame Sam for all of that. So to get back at him, he kills Susan"

  Millie nodded slowly. "We always thought someone was trying to frame Sam."

  Edna tilted her head. "So, you think the word 'revenge' refers to Susan?"

  Trish shook her head. "It could, but I doubt it. What if it refers to Mary?"

  Millie snapped her fingers. "Of course, that's what it's got to mean! Mary knew that Tom had killed Susan, so she must have been blackmailing him to get the earrings!"

  Edna frowned. "It still doesn't explain why Tom's ex-wife was at Mary's house"

  "It was pure jealousy," Millie said. "Clarissa Jones thought Tom bought the earrings for his new girlfriend. She went over there to confront Mary, to warn her to stay away from her man."

  Trish shuddered. "I can't see any woman wanting to claim Tom Jones as her man, but there's no accounting for taste" Then, a thought occurred to her. "What if Clarissa knows he killed Mary?"

  "How would she know that?" Edna asked.

  Trish leaned her head back, thinking of different scenarios. "I don't know, but it could explain why she was at Tom's house that day arguing with him."

  Millie put her treasures back in her fanny pack and zipped it shut. "There's only one way to find out"

  "What's that?" Trish and Edna asked in unison.

  "We need to talk to Clarissa Jones"

  "We absolutely do not!" Edna exclaimed. "We have to tell Henry"

  Millie snorted. "Yeah, right, so he can tell us to go jump in a lake?"

  Trish sighed and twisted her neck from side to side to ease the sudden tension. "So far, we can't prove anything. Millie's right, Edna. We need to find out what Clarissa knows. And, more importantly, we need to find a way to get that one earring and the list back into Tom's home."

  Millie jerked upright. "Wait a minute. I never said anything about going back to Tom's."

  Trish turned her head to look at her. "Sorry, we don't have a choice. We got that evidence illegally. It will be worthless unless the police find it themselves."

  "You're right," Millie agreed soberly. "But this time I'm wearing a haz-mat suit."

  Trish laughed. "Get one for me too. Have you ever seen such a mess as Tom's house?"

  Millie grimaced. "Never-I'll be surprised if we don't come down with some awful disease. By the way, how are you going to explain all this to Joe, Edna?"

  "I don't want to talk about it," Edna said primly, and then put the car in gear. "And, Millie, you'd better keep your trap shut until I do" Millie grinned wickedly, but thankfully kept her trap shut!

  The next morning dawned bright and clear, with a soft, warm breeze fluttering the air. It was unimaginable that she and her friends were investigating a cruel act of murder on such a beautiful day, Trish thought, vowing to never again take for granted the simple beauty the world had to offer, or a selfless act of kindness from a fellow human being. There was pure evil walking about, and all that separated it from good was one instance, one wrong decision made lightly without any regard to the people hurt and the lives forever changed.

  Trish set her lips in a tight line. Maybe today they could help right that wrong, and hopefully set a
good man free so he could begin to pick up the pieces of his life and once again be able to appreciate the sweet goodness in his world. It would take time-Sam had been through too much-but she had no doubt he would recover, if he was given the chance, that is.

  What they were doing today was probably the stupidest thing they had done so far in trying to help Sam. Clarissa Jones' part in all of this was an unknown factor. She could be nothing more than a jealous lover betrayed, or she could very well be a partner-in-crime. She could also be very dangerous. Either way, the women knew she had information that could clear Sam.

  Trish found herself second-guessing their decision not to tell anybody where they were going this morning. It had seemed perfectly logical when they were laying out their plan that their mission should remain secret. Part of it was because it would be too hard to explain how they had garnered the information they had so far without someone blowing a gasket, and another part was, regrettably, pure pride. Having uncovered so much on their own, they wanted to see this through to the end, to solve the crime and tell Sam the nightmare was over. And, as Millie had stated emphatically, it would be nice to rub Henry's nose in it too.

  With effort, Trish pushed her doubts aside. It was too late to change anything now. Besides, Edna had her cell phone in case anything went wrong, and all they were going to do was question Clarissa, not accuse her of anything. Everything would be fine as long as they were careful and kept their wits about them. She glanced sideways at Millie, who was sitting beside her in the front seat of the car. Unfortunately, her friend usually had trouble keeping her wits about her. Hopefully, today wouldn't be one of those times.

  Millie was pouting. She kept glancing every so often at Clarissa's house and letting out huge sighs, frustrated that Trish and Edna had both vetoed her idea of banging on the woman's door at six-thirty in the morning. "I still say it's not too early." Millie had been at Trish's house promptly at five-thirty A.M., and seemed surprised, and more than a little put-out, that Trish was not already dressed and ready to go.

  Trish looked at her watch. "Let's wait another fifteen minutes," she said with forced patience. She was just as anxious as Millie was to confront Clarissa, but common decency demanded they at least wait until eight o'clock.

  "Now, remember, Millie," Edna said, "we let Trish start the conversation with Clarissa. We're just the backup. If we all start talking at once, she's liable to tune us out" Edna looked tired, with bags under her eyes and her complexion a little pale. But receiving a phone call at six in the morning from a wild woman exploding with energy would tend to do that to anyone.

  Millie sighed loudly and slumped in the seat. "I know, I know. But, believe me, I'm going to keep an eye on her expression. If I think she's lying, or covering up something, then I'll give you a signal, Trish."

  "You don't think I'll be able to tell if she's lying?"

  "It never hurts to have two pair of eyes on something."

  Trish grinned. "So, what's the signal going to be?"

  Millie thought for a moment. "I'll roll my eyes."

  "Now, that's what I call subtle"

  Millie shrugged and looked at her watch, then suddenly sat upright. "Come on, it's time!" She was out of the car before either Trish or Edna could blink.

  Edna sighed and got out of the car, smoothing her blouse. "Actually, I'm surprised we kept her in the car as long as we did."

  "I heard that!"

  With Millie leading the way, they crossed the street and approached Clarissa Jones' house. The curtains were drawn and the front porch light was still on. Millie marched up to the door and rang the doorbell.

  "Thanks for giving me some time to compose myself," Trish whispered angrily.

  "You're welcome"

  "What if she's not at home?" Edna kept looking over her shoulder, whether to scope out a path to escape or to see if anybody was watching, Trish wasn't sure.

  Millie pressed the doorbell again. "You asked that before, Edna," she said in a voice praying for patience. "Her car is probably in the garage. We've been here for over an hour, and we know she hasn't left"

  "Of course, we don't know if she ever came home," Trish pointed out, just as they heard the front door rattle.

  Millie threw a sly smile over her shoulder and then stepped back behind Trish. "I told you so"

  The front door opened and a tall woman dressed in a long, blue bathrobe, her tousled blond hair showing dark roots badly in need of a touch-up, stood glaring at them. Trish guessed by the frown on her face that she wasn't too happy to have visitors, but there had been an instant, just before the frown had fully settled in place, where Trish had noticed a spurt of surprised recognition cross her face. Did she remember Edna from the other morning at Mary's? If so, she must think they were there to sell Avon. That would definitely explain the irritation.

  "Can I help you?" The voice wasn't too friendly, ei ther. Deep and husky, and full of impatience, she sounded as though she deeply regretted answering the door.

  "Are you Clarissa Jones?" Trish asked.

  The woman's dark, brown eyes narrowed slightly. "Who wants to know?"

  "Can we come in, dear?" Edna's smile was friendly and understanding. "We would really like to talk to you"

  But Clarissa started to close the door. "I don't think so. I'm late for an appointment."

  "It's about Tom," Trish said quickly and stuck her foot in the doorway. That was not too smart for someone planning to start a vigorous exercise program. She could only pray that Clarissa would have enough compassion not to slam the door shut. "It's important."

  "I believe it's in your best interest to hear us out," Millie piped in.

  Clarissa looked at them for a minute. "Oh, all right," she said with an exaggerated sigh, "come on in." Opening the door wider, she stepped back. "But why you think I want to hear anything about Tom is beyond me" It wasn't the warmest of invitations, but Trish would take it.

  They walked into a small tiled foyer. Stairs leading to the second story were in front of them, with a living room to the right and a dining room to the left. It was rather dark with the curtains drawn, but the house appeared clean and airy with a minimum of furniture and knickknacks.

  Clarissa closed the door and gestured toward a beige sofa against the far wall of the living room. "Have a seat. I'd offer you coffee, but like I said, I don't have much time."

  Trish and Edna sat down, perched on the edge of the overstuffed sofa. Millie, however, made the mistake of sitting all the way back. She was struggling to sit in an upright position when Clarissa chose the armchair across from them and said, "Okay, so what's so important? And, you can start by telling me who you are"

  Trish could feel Edna's and Millie's eyes on her. Clearing her throat, she clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking as she looked Clarissa straight in the eye. It was so important that they get as much information from Clarissa as possible, yet this strategy could very well backfire. Clarissa could clam up and throw them out, and in the worst case imaginable, she could tell Tom why they had come to see her. Trish took a breath and said, "You were seen at Mary Chavez' house the day she was murdered"

  Clarissa leaned back and casually crossed her legs, but not before Trish noticed the sudden death grip she had on the arm rest. "Who?"

  Trish's gaze held steady. "You know who," she said quietly, but firmly. "And now I believe you know why we're here"

  There was perfect quiet in the room. Millie had finally surfaced from the cushioned seat of questionable comfort, apparently none the worse for wear. "We know that Tom killed Mary, and we also know that he killed a very good friend of ours, Susan Wiley. Now, we believe you could be in extreme danger yourself, but we can't help you unless you tell us everything you know." Millie paused for effect, her gaze never faltering from Clarissa's. "And, by the way, we don't have a lot of time ourselves, either, so start spilling your guts"

  Trish held her breath. She could tell by Millie's voice and attitude that she was trying to come off as ga
ng tough. Unfortunately, it didn't come off as such. She wanted badly to stomp on Millie's foot unobtrusively to hush her up, but Millie's feet didn't quite reach the floor, and if she shoved her in the side, Clarissa would see the action and know they were bluffing.

  "We're trying to help you, dear," Edna said in the ensuing silence. Her voice was gentle and soothing. "We know you were at Mary's, and then you were seen at Tom's mobile home"

  The reaction they got was not what was expected. Instead of questioning them on how they knew these facts, or how they came to suspect Tom, or, for that matter, how they had found her, Clarissa seemed to almost smile before she suddenly leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. Crumbling into tears, she sobbed, "I've been so frightened. You don't know Tom. You don't know what he's capable of."

  Edna quickly got up and went to comfort Clarissa, patting her softly on the back. "There, there, you aren't alone anymore. You have nothing to be afraid of any longer."

  Millie looked over at Trish, her surprised expression matching Trish's thoughts. Clarissa hadn't denied anything !

  Millie fought to keep the glee from her voice. "Tell us what you know, Clarissa," she said. "We have friends on the police force who can help you"

  After a moment, Clarissa sat up and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. When she started to speak, her voice was soft, almost as if she was afraid Tom would overhear. "I don't know where to start"

  "The beginning would work for us," Millie said helpfully.

  Clarissa nodded. "I didn't know Susan Wiley had been murdered, not at first, anyway. I was out of town and didn't hear anything about it until a few weeks later. I'm sorry to say I immediately suspected my ex-husband"

  Millie quietly reached over and grasped Trish's arm. Was this it? Were they finally going to get the proof they needed to clear Sam? Had it all really boiled down to one man's jealous rage against another? Trish fought the urge to hurl specific questions at Clarissa, knowing it was important the woman tell her story in her own way, but there was nothing wrong in guiding her.