Pam (15 page)

Fucking bitch.

How dare she? When I saw her the night before, I was having doubts. Did I really want to destroy her life or just get her out of mine
?
I only wanted to talk to her. Really, I did. But the moment I stepped toward her she did it. She treated me if I were the one with all the dark secrets. She knows about me? I know about her.

For eighteen years she was locked away
, gone
, out of my life and out of my mind.

Now she’s back and she wants to disrupt my world by accusing
me
?

Granted
,
I am no
innocent
,
and there are things that need to stay buried.

So many times in the past people would tell me to go away. Leave her alone. Why was it always me?

The rage I felt swirl inside was one I hadn’t felt in a long
time
. It
left when Pam was locked away.
Because I was no longer around to jump to her defense, be the strong one.

Like with Richie’s aunt.

Guilty.

That incident would come up, eventually
;
she never said anything to me, but she knew. Just like I knew about Connie. Unspoken words over unspeakable acts.

“
Maybe
it isn’t a good idea,” Pam whispered to me outside of Richie’s Aunt Marge’s house.

“It’s what has to be done.
Someone
has to talk some sense into the witch. She’s two steps away from death’s door and you and Richie need that money.
That is
his
inheritance;
she
’s
promised
i
t to him since he was a kid.” I pulled
aw
ay from Pam. “I’ll be back.”

And I went into the
house
. I didn’t even knock. Marge never locked the doors. One would think she would at eight
y
-six years old. She was feisty and nasty at times.

She stepped out of her living room into the foyer the moment I closed the door.

“I saw you outside,” she said. “Why are you here?”

“Richie doesn’t deserve this
treatment
you have been giving him.”

“Really? And what business is this of yours
.
You have a lot of
g
a
ll stepping
into
my house.
Especially
you.”

“The kids don’t deserve this.”

Marge laughed. “You think I’m going anywhere soon?
The
kids can get to know me. No
w
get out of my house, I am going to bed.” She grabbed the railing and began to ascend the stairs.

“Wait.” I charged for her. “Listen to me.”

“What is there to listen to? Richie is a piece of shit and so are you.” She
kept
on walking.
“My money, my business.
Be off with you.”

I took hold of her arm and she yanked it away
.
“Get your filthy hands off of me. I know. Richie
sleeps
with
the
broad
and
that one
sleeps with you. And you …” she laughed. “You not only slept with Richie
,
you slept with his father. Don’t think I am not aware of that little girl thing you have happening at the salon. I saw. You need help. If you aren’t gone by the time I get to my room, I’m calling the police.”

My
visit
,
my
plea to her w
as
innocent
. Pam was so upset. Marge had been turning the entire famil
y on them. I just wanted to try
one more time. I reached for her
.
M
y hand barely touched her frail arm and she pulled away so hard
that
she lost her balance.

I suppose I could have grabbed her better.

It seemed
to happen
in slow motion
,
her
arms waving and flapping like a bird as if it would help her
b
al
a
nce.

My fingers grasped her nightgown.

“
Help
… me.”

I stared at her
,
and then the fabric
s
lipped from my fingers. She sailed backwards
,
and
,
four
stepped
from the bottom, she
hit
head
first
with a loud ‘crack’, a
nd her body flipped over and on
to the linoleum in the foyer.

I don’t know what cracked. Her neck
,
I guess. It was twisted
and
contorted
,
and a pool of blood formed around her head. Her right hand
twitched and
her mouth appeared to be trying to eat air.

My heart didn’t beat faster. I felt eerily calm. She looked pathetic
,
not the strong woman she always projected. I walked down the stairs, stepped over her body
,
and walked out the door.

Pam had left
;
that was a good thing. I didn’t have to explain or say anything to her.
I figured she’d find out soon enough. But Pam never said a word to me.
I did
it
for her. I did it for Richie.

And what did that bastard tell me? One of the last things he ever said to me was he wanted me to go away and never come back. He never wanted to see me again.

He wasn’t even choosing Pam, his homely, fucked up, crazy wife
;
he found someone else.

Everyone used me for their own gain. I was done.

Coming out of that memory, I
slammed my hand down and jolted when
I
caught
a
finger with the
point of the
scissors. I
had
been so engrossed in thinking back
that
I lost track of my task at hand.

It was a tiny snip, barely
noticeable
, but it bled. The
droplets
landed on the note
I was carefully creating. Giving it a twisted look.

The note was my warning to Pam. Now
,
laced with blood, she would for sure take it serious
ly
.

They say confession is good for the soul. I felt better about telling Stacy and Justin some of the things I knew. How I confronted the girl Connie and silently stood by while Sharon terrorized her. I told them about Richie’s aunt, as well.

It made sense to both of them
,
and they saw my reasoning for suspecting Sharon.
I felt so good about it; I skipped a day at the library.

Dr. Andrews was proud of me, so he said. He seemed different
,
though, as if he were keeping a secret. He was very professional. When I wanted to speak about the murders, he wanted to speak about my son. What my plans were, what I hoped to accomplish.

I don’t know what happened
to
him;
maybe he was just having a bad day, or again,
maybe it was just
my imagination.

My immediate plans, I told him, were to make dinner for my son.

He was coming to my home
;
it was the first meal I had cooked in a long time. I went to
the
store, bought the items
,
and even got chocolate milk.
He was still a kid at seventeen
.
W
hat
kid didn’t like chocolate milk?

But I guess I lost my culinary touch. Not paying enough attention, I guess, I ended up
burning
the meal. I
tossed it
,
opted
for Chinese
takeout
,
and
kept
the chocolate milk.

I
opened
the door
excitedly
when Justin rang the bell. I greeted my son with a wide grin and
a
hug. “Come in, please.” I stepped back.

“This was on your door.” He handed me a white envelope.

“Oh, prob
ably
from maintenance.”
I p
ut it on the table by the door. “
Come
in, it’s not much.”

“It’s cute.” He looked around my small apartment.

“It works. But if you wanna ever move in with me, we’ll have to get a bigger place.”

At that instant, Justin gave me a quirky look.

“I’m sorry. That was
too
fast and wrong.”

“No, no. I wasn’t
expecting
that. I’d like to work toward that goal.”

I don’t think he realized how happy I was to hear him say that
;
I hugged him
again
and brought him to the table.
“Where did you tell your aunt you were?”

“With you.” He sat down. “Ah, Chinese and
chocolate
milk.”

“You like it
,
right?”

“
Absolutely
.”

I joined him at the table and immediately began
serving
the food. “So she knows.”

“She isn’t real happy, but she understands.”

“Of course.” I nodded.

“I told her I was going to help you find out who
really
did the crime.”

“Did you tell her who I think it was?” I asked.

Justin nodded his reply. “She said it figured you’d blame it on Sharon.”

My head hung upon hearing that.

“
Hey
, Mom. Come on. We’ll figure this out. And I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“You didn’t get anywhere when you went to Willow Brook. What if I went and talked to people
?
”

I heaved out a breath. “Justin, that would be awesome. Maybe even find
Sharon’s
father.”

“You think he still lives in Willow Brook?”

“I think so. People generally live in Willow
Brook
their whole lives. He’ll be easy to find if he’s there.
He
may be retired
,
though. He was the chief of police.”

Immediately
, Justin’s head lifted from his meal. “Sharon’s father was the chief of police?”

“Yes. That’s why I think he covered it up.”

He paused in his eating.

“What’s wrong?”

“
N
othing.” He shook his head. “Just the
detective
in me thinking.
”

“Good.” I pointed my fork
at him
. “You
keep
that mind spinning. I need all the help I can get.”

“Just know …”
He
reached across the table. “I’m here to help. I’m always here to help.”

It was good to hear
,
and I smiled at him. We enjoyed ou
r
dinner and stopped the murder conversation and talk about Sharon. I wanted to know more about him. His school, his friends, what he liked to do.

Our evening was good but fast. He did have school the next day and a forty minute drive. We said our goodbyes
,
and I leaned against the door, basking in my time with my son.

Then I saw the white envelope.

Truly I believed it was from maintenance until I opened it. It looked like a
ransom
not
e
from an old movie. The letters were cut out of a magazine, each letter
a different size
, creating its own word.

The note wasn’t long
;
it merely read
,
Drop this now or you will pay
.

Dried blood appeared to be smeared across the note.

The
entire thing frightened me. Not just the note and the blood, but
scariest of it all was the
fact that Sharon knew where I lived.