Fool's Journey (28 page)

She was poised mid-step when the light
flashed on and a familiar voice greeted her. “Hello, sweet Katie. Going
somewhere?”

Manny pulled up across from Deirdre’s
apartment, just as the lights came on in her window. He glanced at his watch.
One in the morning. He’d been right. She was having trouble sleeping.

He opened the car door and stepped into
the rain, now missing the jacket he’d insisted Deirdre wear. He was glad she’d
taken some part of him, though. It was a way of staying with her, even when he’d
been sent away.

He glanced up at her window and saw a
silhouette. He started towards her apartment, but stopped a heartbeat later.
Something was wrong. The shape he saw wasn’t right. The way it moved seemed
foreign. It wasn’t her.

He snapped the cell phone from his waist
and quickly punched in Deirdre’s number. It rang three times. Then someone
picked up.

“Deirdre! Is everything all right?”

Silence. Then the connection was broken.

Manny cursed under his breath and shoved
the cell back in its holder. Sprinting across the street, he reached the
building and flattened himself against it. He wished now that he hadn’t
repaired the window in her bedroom. As far as he knew, the only other way in
was the front door. Except—hadn’t she said there was a door that connected her
rooms with the rest of the old mansion? He remembered talking with her about it—the
door was nailed shut, but maybe he could find a way to get it open. He’d have
to wake the landlord and convince him to give it a try.

Manny moved silently along the wall and
behind some shrubs. To get to the landlord’s entrance, he’d have to cross a
broad expanse of lawn illuminated by streetlights. Someone could be watching
from upstairs, but if he was quick, he could get to the front of the building
without being noticed. He glanced left and right, then crouched low, ready to
run.
I’m coming for you Deirdre. Hold on.

Then came a sharp blow and blackness.

"What are you doing here?"

Eunice McClellan Fisher dropped the cell
on the sofa and plunged her hands deep into the pockets of her raincoat. She
stretched her mouth into a red-lipped grin, then winked broadly. “Why, you left
the door open, honey,” she drawled. “I thought you must want company.”

On seeing her aunt rather than Freemont
Willard, Deirdre had almost laughed with relief, but now anger took precedence.

“If you want more money, you might have
noticed the banks are closed.”

“Maybe I don’t need a bank. Those bills
you gave me were old, like they’d been stored, so when I came here I was hoping
you’d have a suitcase of cash under the bed. But I found all that hair in a
paper bag, and I just couldn’t resist. How’d you like your little surprise?”

Deirdre clenched her fists at the memory.
“You need to go now,” she said.

Eunice stayed where she was. “You sure
are a deep sleeper—you sleep like the dead. I thought you’d wake up when I came
in, but you didn’t even stir when I turned on the bedroom light. So, I just let
you sleep while I poked around.”

It was raining hard outside, but Deirdre
noticed that her aunt’s raincoat was almost dry. She had been here awhile,
slinking about.

Eunice glanced around the room. “You
surprise me, honey. You really do. You could have anything, be anywhere, but
you choose this bird’s nest, and decorate in Goodwill chic.”

“Call yourself a cab,” Deirdre said.

“In a bit.” Eunice smiled. “I’ve got a
few things to do here first.”

“That’s not your choice.”

“Think what you please.” She kicked off
her shoes, sank down on the sofa and curled her feet up under her. “You know,
Katie, I never bore you any ill will, not even when you killed my brother. I
thought, well, hallelujah! Somebody’s got some guts. Now your mother–she was a
worm. Took everything he dished out without even a whimper.”

“Shut up! Don’t you ever talk about my
mother! She’s—”

Eunice’s laugh rang out. “She’s nothing,
Katie. She’s dead.”

Deirdre froze.
This can’t be real. I must still be dreaming. In a minute, my father
will walk in.

“You are a sight, Miss Katie. Why, the
look on your face is priceless! Just like you were ten years old again.” Then
Eunice’s smile died on her face and her voice became steely. “That cash you
gave me wasn’t much, but it was enough to make a few friends and get a few
favors. Lots of people at that fancy rest home make minimum wage, you know. A couple
hundred goes a long way toward arranging special visiting hours.”

She’s lying, Deirdre told herself. She
has to be lying. Her father had enjoyed telling lies like that.
You remember the neighbor’s little dog? I
hit him with the car this morning, Katie. Poor little fellow—it took a long
time to die.

“She didn’t have much fight in her,”
Eunice went on. “I just put the pillow over her face and held it down. She
barely moaned. I snuffed her like a cigarette.” Eunice snapped her red-nailed
fingers with a sharp click.

Deirdre shook her head.
Not true.

“I gave you money,” she whispered. “I
gave you what you wanted.”

“Not enough, and not kindly.” She
narrowed her eyes and looked Deirdre up and down. “So, I decided you weren’t
worth the trouble, either one of you. Decided I might as well have it all. That
means you’ll have to go, too.”

“Not so easily, I won’t.” Deirdre stood
mere feet from the drawer where she kept her gun and she began to edge toward
it. “And not quietly.” Pitching forward, she reached the drawer and pulled it
open. Empty. She caught her breath.

“Looking for this?” Eunice removed the
gun from her pocket and pointed it at Deirdre. “You think I’d forget about a
thing like that? That nice Professor Willard told me all about you and your
gun. He called me at my hotel last night to talk about you. I heard all about
his clever little plan for you, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to interfere.”

Deirdre took a deep breath. If she
dropped to the floor, she might have a chance to get to the door and out into
the darkness. She kept her eyes on her aunt and took a step farther into the
room.

“You think killing me will guarantee that
the money will go to you?”

“After you and your mother, I’m my
brother’s only heir. Don’t think I didn’t check into this.”

Deirdre glanced at the door—about ten
feet.

“Anyway, Katie, I've had my fun. Time to
take care of you and leave the scene of the crime.” She pointed to a plastic
bottle on the coffee table. "Sleeping pills from the kitchen counter,
Katie. Just take the rest of these and before you know it none of this will
matter."

A deep ache rose up in Deirdre as she
remembered all the times in her life she’d wished she were dead. The scenes
came to her like illustrations in a book: the times her mother had been knocked
senseless, the hours she spent dreading her father's cruelty, the long nights
lying awake knowing that in the end, her act of vengeance against her father
had stolen her mother away. A hundred bitter times. But not now.

Not when she was in love.

"Just take the pills," Eunice
said, pointing the gun at Deirdre again. "I haven't got all night."

XXXV.

           
Manny
groaned and tried to turn over on the cold, wet grass, but an enormous weight
pressed him down. It was black as pitch and his head hurt like hell.

“Don’t move,
asshole,” a voice hissed at him. A woman’s voice.

“Okay,” he
croaked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll say
you’re not. How about you explain to me what you’re doing creeping around in
the dark?”

“I can’t
breathe.”

The weight on
his neck and shoulders shifted a little and he was able to turn his head so
that his face was out of the grass.

“Don’t try
anything, or I’ll hit you again. If you’ve hurt Deirdre” she muttered, ”I swear
to God I’ll cut you nuts off and hang them on my porch for doorbells. Now tell me
who the hell you are.”

The piercing
beam of a flashlight caught him between the eyes, but Manny relaxed slightly.
Whoever this Amazon was, she was on his side.

“I’m Manny
Ruiz. I’m a friend of Deirdre’s.”

There was a
long pause. Then she said, “I’m going to take a look at your wallet. Don’t try
anything.”

Manny felt his
wallet being tugged out of his back pocket and saw the flashlight beam dart
away.

“Shit!” She
struggled to her feet. “You need a hand up?” she asked apologetically.

He let her pull
him to his feel. “I’m so sorry, Manny. I’m Panda Papadopoulous. I thought you
were Deirdre’s stalker.”

“I’ll say you
did,” he grumbled, massaging the side of his head gingerly. “What did you hit
me with?”

“Baron Samedi.
He’s the voodoo guardian of the cemeteries.” She shifted the flashlight’s beam
and a skeleton figure wearing a top hat grinned back at him. “I bought him for
Deirdre down in New Orleans, but—“

“Shhh. Come
on,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her into the shadow of the
house. He glanced up – the light was still on in Deirdre’s window, but he
couldn’t see anything else. At least he knew that the silhouette he’d seen
earlier hadn’t been Panda.

“So what are
you doing back here anyway?” she whispered. “I just pulled up a minute ago.
Deirdre never returned any of my messages today and I was worried sick so I
came on over. Then I saw you creeping around and I flipped.”

“There’s
someone upstairs with Deirdre,” he said softly. “Whoever it was hung up on me
when I called.”

“Freemont
Willard?” she gasped.

Manny shook his
head. “He’s dead.”

“Damn! I miss
everything! I’m never going out of town again.”

“Hush. I’m
going to see if I can get that landlord to let us upstairs.”

Panda nodded.
“The door that’s nailed shut? Good idea.”

“You stay here.
I’m going to try to get to the front door without being seen.”

He stepped out
of the shadows and began to quietly cross the lawn. Then he heard the blast.

 
Deirdre felt the pain before she heard the
shot. She’d taken one step towards the door, but never even had a chance to
run. As she slid to the floor, her back against the wall, she saw Eunice wipe
the prints from the gun.

Her blood was
hot as it ran down her body, but it made her shiver. She wasn’t sure where
she’d been hit. The pain emanated from her middle, but there was blood all
over: on the floor, on her hands, even spattered on her face. She looked down
to see the red flow streaming onto the floor.
That’s me
, she thought.
I’m
flowing away.
The Dickinson poem rang in her head:
My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun.

Eunice looked
down at Deirdre from what seemed a long distance. “Now look what you made me
do,” she whispered. “I'll have to run for it. Be sure to say hello to your dad
for me.”

Manny changed
directions mid-step and made for the stairs to Deirdre’s apartment. Pulling his
cell from his belt and dialing 911, he shouted directions as he ran. When he
rounded the corner, he found Panda struggling to pin a struggling woman to the
side of the building. He raced past them and up the stairs to Deirdre.

Deirdre was
leaned against the wall, her eyes closed. At first glance, her hands seemed
full of red rose petals and his immediate thought was
How beautiful
. He knelt at her side, as she opened her eyes and
tried to smile.

“I’m sorry,
Manny,” she whispered. “We were going to have such fun. We were going to . . .”

“It’s OK,”
Manny said, cradling her. “Don’t try to talk. Help is coming.”

“I’m a fool,”
she gasped. “On a Fool’s Journey.” She tried to sit up in his arms, but he held
her tight.

Manny could
feel her drifting away from him. “Hold on, hold on,” he cried desperately.
“Please hold on.”

“It’s almost
too late. The angels are here.”

Her face was so
pale it was almost translucent. He could hear the sirens coming closer and
closer as they made their way up Queen Anne Hill, but his gut told him it was
too late.

“Don’t leave
me, Deirdre. Keep holding my hand.”

XXXVI.

¿Soy enferma?

           
“No,”
Rosa answered softly, patting Ana’s hand. “You’re not sick,
niña
.” Yawning drowsily, the little girl
curled herself onto the couch in the waiting room and went back to sleep.

Rosa had
bundled the children up while they were still sleeping and taken them with her
to the hospital as soon as Manny’s call had come. Only now did she realize that
the angels she’d seen gathered at the apartment had come to take Deirdre, not
protect her. The vision she’d seen of the crumpled body had not been Freemont
Willard at all, but a forerunner of Deirdre’s fate. She shook her head. She’d
never questioned her gift before, but now her heart asked God, If I must have
the sight, why can it not be clear?