Chapter Fifty-Five

Unlocking the door so we could enter the house was not the typical routine task. But it was accomplished, and I was pulled and dragged around the kitchen before we ended up in the living room. In the process of getting there, I tried to keep from spilling the half full glass of water Angel handed me before we left the kitchen.

I started to ask her what the water was for, but my words were choked off in mid sentence.

"The couch is your favorite resting spot in the house. Isn't it, Fay?"

The noose around my neck loosened just enough for me to answer yes. My, "Why," was cut off.

And if I could have, I would have ask how she knew where I liked to rest. But she was pulling on the panty hose again, moving me around to the front of the couch. The toe of my sneaker accidentally ran into the crutches I had propped along the one end of the couch. It was a reflex movement that had me reaching for them before they tipped over.

Angel got a hold of the crutches first though, and returned them to their upright position. Then she took the glass from me and put it down on the coffee table alongside newspapers.

"The water, Fay, is to help you swallow this bottle of sleeping pills." The ones she had pulled out of her rain coat pocket and dangled in front of me before placing them next to the water.

"Terrible thing what you went and done to Ethel. The wig is going to be the evidence that convicts you."

I tried to speak out in protest, but the panty hose tightened. My breath was being choked off again. "You'd rather kill yourself than spend the rest of your life locked away, Fay."

Her eyes were suddenly holding mine prisoner as she tightened the choke hold a little more. I don't know if it was because my face must have been changing colors from lack of oxygen to the brain, or if it was because she felt confident about who was in control here, that she loosened the hold.

I was still gulping in air when she informed me, "Your friend, Joe, decided to check out tonight as well."

"Maybe you'll see one another in hell, Fay."

My fear was swiftly replaced with anger. It seemed odd, but I think knowing Joe's hours were numbered is what was responsible for the anger more so than knowing my demise was upon me as well.

"No one will believe it." The hoarse voice that spoke was mine. "Two suicides on the same night-"

Another choke hold cut me off.

"Joe is devastated by the loss of Ethel. I will confirm it. He made out a new will so quickly so his daughter can buy the happiness he won't be around to provide."

My eyes told her happiness couldn't be bought. Then repeated the line that no one would believe the two suicides.

"You, Fay, have been miserable for a while now. Your husband doesn't want you anymore. Your daughter's off at college. You're all alone, Fay. Nobody wanted you anymore, except Joe. And with Ethel gone, you'd have him all to your depressing, fat self. You had to get rid of her.

"If it wasn't for that wig being found, you might have gotten away with it. But then there's the lipstick on Ethel's dress sleeve. It's the same shade you wear on occasion, Fay."

I had forgotten about the lipstick. My eyes told her as much. They also asked a question she answered next, as if she really could see into my thoughts.

"I have been preparing for this for some time now, Fay. Ethel's murder was planned with you in mind to be accused." She loosened her grip on the panty hose. "Is there anything you'd like to say before you go to sleep, Fay? You know, any last words? But do be nice, Fay."

I had dozens of words, questions that still hadn't been answered. But there was one that came to mind first. "Why Joe, and not your real father?"

The choke hold was back, tighter than all the times before. Angel's eyes glared with anger, hate and outright evil. Then I watched her mouth move into this wicked sort of smile.

"Thomas was a fool not to acknowledge me. A mistake that cost him his life, you know."

So she had confronted him. And she also was responsible for his demise. Mitch was right from the very beginning; Thomas had had help sliding beneath the bath water.

"My daddy had a very bad cold. I watched him go to the doctor, to the drug store to fill his prescription for an antibiotic. I even watched him use the key he had hidden under the flower pot on his front porch. The medicine made him sleepy, Fay. He was asleep that night I tiptoed into his bathroom. "

The noose around my neck was going limp as she proceeded with the story about how she murdered her biological father. "The man was old, out of shape, sick, and asleep. So you see, Fay, it was easy to hold his head down."

"Oh, he struggled at first, but I jumped into the tub with him. Had my knees pressed into his chest and throat."

Her eyes glazed in another direction. It was as if she left the present and returned to the past when she said, "Just like that animal my mother married did to me."

Then she returned.

"It only took a few minutes. And how fortunate for me my knees left no marks. Or if they did, the coroner missed them."

My chance to attempt escape was now or never. Angel's story was coming to a close. I could feel it. I was sure when she was finished, I would be too.

One, two, three, and I lunged forward, only to be severely yanked back. This before she gave my stomach a hard shove, knocking me back onto the couch, also releasing the choke hold around my neck.

"What you got under there, Fay?" she demanded, as her eyes steadied on my stomach.

Marie's little diary had been down the front of my pants so long now that I had gotten used to the minor discomfort. Practically forgot the book was even there. But then I did have other things on my mind. When her hand headed in the direction of my waist, I made up my mind she wasn't going to touch me there. I hiked up my sweatshirt and pulled the little book out. My eyes asked her if she wanted the book a split second before I tossed it over the coffee table and in the direction of the unlighted fireplace.

When she lurched forward for it, in an attempt to grab it in midair, I moved in the opposite direction. I had the crutch in my hand and swung it up with all my might. I whacked her along the side of the head before she knew what hit her. Her head caught the corner of the coffee table on her way to the floor. After a few moments to level out my breathing, I quickly undid the panty hose from around my neck. Then I used the end of the crutch to poke Angel in the ribs. Not even a moan.

I grabbed the cordless phone off the end table and was thankful I only had to hit two numbers to reach Joe's place. And that was a chore in itself since my fingers, my whole body was shaking. I left it ring and ring. No answer.

The 911 I tapped in next was done feverishly. The entire time my hoarse voice rapidly dictated instructions to the woman on the other end of the line, my eyes remained on the monster sprawled out on my living room floor. It seemed like an eternity before I was through giving addresses and situations for my place and Joe's.

I don't know why, but I took the necessary extra seconds to pick up Marie's diary, but didn't take a few more to check to see if Angel was still breathing.

Kitty suddenly decided to make her presence known as I crossed the kitchen and headed for the garage. I think I told her she'd have to wait for her dinner before I closed the garage door behind me.