"Oh, yes," Carrie agreed. "Jilly was always sneaky and clever." She got up and handed the letter to Sara. "She's hired a hit man. That's what she called him. Her hit man."
"Your own sister did this to you."
Sara didn't sound surprised, just intrigued. Carrie wondered at her reaction. In normal families, if there really was such a thing, sisters certainly squabbled. Some might even hate each other, but how many would go to the extreme of hiring someone to kill
a sibling?
"You're not shocked," she said.
"No, I'm not."
Carrie shook her head. "Jilly isn't like anyone you've ever known."
"Want to bet?" Sara said dryly. "I've put away hundreds of men and women who committed heinous crimes. I believe I've heard and seen it all in the twenty-two years I've sat on the bench. Nothing can shock me now."
Carrie scoffed. "I wouldn't count on that. So tell me, Sara. Who wants you dead?"
Sara carefully adjusted the belt on her robe so that the bow was perfect, then folded her hands in her lap. "Who wants me dead? Oh, quite a few people, I would imagine."
She handed the letter to Carrie and watched as she unfolded the note and read it. It was short and to the point.
Judge Collins:
I told you I would get even, and I'm a man of my word. Now it's your turn to suffer. I wish I could be there to watch… from a safe distance, of course. You're going to die very soon now.
Rot in hell, bitch.
Carrie dropped the letter on the coffee table. Then she handed Jilly's letter to Sara.
"While you read her short but not-so-sweet note, I'm going to get another cup of coffee."
"I'd love a cup now," Sara said.
Carrie went back into the kitchen, and when she returned a minute later with two mugs, Sara had placed the note on the coffee table next to the one she'd received. Carrie handed her a mug, warned her the coffee was very hot, and sat down.
"Your sister hates you."
"Oh, yes."
"She accused you of stealing her child and turning her against her."
"That didn't happen."
"She seems to believe that all of her failures were your fault and that your success was stolen from her."
Carrie nodded. "Jilly always had the unique ability to rewrite history. Once she said it, in her mind it was real."
"She sounds like a psychopath."
"She is," Carrie said. "It was never officially diagnosed, but I'm sure that's what she is."
Sara began to trace the worry line in her forehead with her fingertip as she listened to Carrie. Back and forth, back and forth.
She was so deep in thought she probably wasn't even aware of what she was doing. "What happened with the child?"
"Avery," she said. "Her name is Avery, and she's an adult now, not a child. Jilly left her in the hospital. She told my mother and
me that we could keep her, sell her, or give her away. She didn't care what happened to her." Tears sprang into Carrie's eyes.
She hated herself for showing such weakness in front of a virtual stranger, but she was powerless to do anything about it. "Jilly's going after Avery too. Oh, God, she could already have her locked away somewhere now. My niece was going to join me at the spa…" She covered her face with her hand. "We've got to get out of here soon. We have to find a way."
"Your sister has gone to quite a lot of trouble to hurt you," Sara said.
Carrie told her about Jilly coming into her room during the night and how she had believed she was having a nightmare. Sara
was a good listener and so calm Carrie was actually comforted.
"Jilly could be very patient when she really wanted something, and, oh, how she loved complicated plans. Nothing could ever
be simple."
Sara put her coffee cup down and leaned forward. "How much time do you think we have?"
"She's gone to a lot of trouble setting this up. She'll want to prolong my agony."
Both of them kept glancing at the spiral staircase, expecting to see Anne coming down the stairs.
"I've already checked every window I could reach. They're all wired."
"Yes, I would expect so."
"I wish I could be calm like you."
"I'm not calm," Sara protested. "I'm quite… dis-combobulated."
Her choice of words made Carrie smile. "So am I," she said.
"I'm thinking…"
"Yes?"
"How curious it is that the three of us are in this house together. What is it that we have in common?"
"I don't know," Carrie said. "And I don't know that we'll have the time to find out."
"We will get out of here."
Her resolve bolstered Carrie. "Yes, we must, and we will."
"I wonder what's keeping Anne."
"She's going to be a problem."
"Oh?"
Carrie nodded. "She won't admit she received a letter."
"Perhaps she's in shock."
Carrie thought Sara might be right about that. "And denial," she said.
"We're going to all have to work together, but I don't know how much help I can be. I'll do whatever I can. I'm sixty-eight
years old." Sara shrugged. "And I'm terribly out of shape. When I received the invitation for a free two-week stay at the spa
as a promotion, I thought to myself, why not? The experts say it's never too late to turn your life around. I decided to get into better shape. As you can see, I'm overweight, and once we get outside-and we will find a way to do that," she said with conviction, "I won't be able to walk far. I should have had both of my knees replaced several years ago. I'm walking with bone
on bone now."
"Then Anne and I will hide you somewhere… somewhere safe in the woods while we go get help."
They heard a door close and both looked up. Anne had finally decided to join them. Carrie's mouth dropped open when the frail woman started down the stairs. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Anne was all dressed up in a hot pink St. John pants suit. Her gold earrings matched the buttons. She had taken the time to put on makeup and curl her hair. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she smiled, and then crossed the living room to join them. Her high heels clicked against the marble floor. Where in heaven's name did she think she was going? A formal brunch?
"Oh, dear," Sara whispered.
"Good morning, ladies," Anne said. "Or rather, good afternoon."
She sounded so cheerful. Had her mind snapped? Carrie wondered. She was about to ask the woman what the hell was the matter with her when Sara suggested Anne sit down.
"Did you sleep well?" Anne asked Sara. Then, before she could answer, Anne continued on. "I can't believe I slept so long. It must be this wonderful mountain air. Coming from Cleveland, it's a delightful change."
"Would you care for some coffee?" Sara asked. She was watching her closely, as though she was trying to interpret the
woman's bizarre behavior.
"Not just yet. I'll ring when I'm ready."
Carrie turned to Sara. "I told you she was going to be a problem."
"I'm sorry. What did you say?" Anne asked. She carefully sat down and crossed one ankle over the other.
Carrie turned to her. "It wasn't the wonderful mountain air that made you sleep so long, Anne. We were all drugged."
"That's nonsense. Look where we are," she said. "Who would do such a thing in this beautiful-"
Carrie cut her off. "Did you bring your letter down?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"See what I mean?" Carrie asked Sara.
The judge took over. "Anne, Carrie and I each received a letter. They're there on the coffee table. Please read them."
Carrie noticed that Anne's hand was violently shaking as she reached for the letters. She picked them up and then quickly
placed them back on the table. "I don't need to read these."
"Yes, you do," Sara gently asserted. "You'll see that we're in trouble here. Someone has wired this place to kill us."