"Tony… listen to me, Tony. Andy will tell you. It's all a mistake."
"Yeh… a mistake," Tony said. "A mistake for you and Andy."
Grace shrank back as she heard the shrill scream of pleading from Ricky, "No… Tony! Nooo… oooooo." The sound of two shots was like one explosion, and Grace's body jumped as though the slugs had hit her. Almost immediately two more shots were fired and there was a loud gasp then a thud.
Like a trapped animal, Grace glanced frantically around the bedroom seeking some avenue of escape. Oh, God. If she were found here, she would be executed too. On the side of the room, just past Ricky's round bed, a wardrobe closet door stood open. She ran for it, just as she heard Tony's voice say in the front room, "Take a look around, make sure the place is empty. Hurry."
She shoved clothes aside, jumped in and used her fingernails to close the door behind her, then huddled frightened and trembling in the dark interior expecting at any moment to have the door yanked open and the cruel face of her executioner smile in triumph at her. She tried to silence her breathing, then was sure that they must be able to hear the horrible pounding of her heart.
Footsteps entered the bedroom and she heard the bathroom door and shower stall door being opened. A moment later, although it seemed like an eternity, she heard another's man's voice say, "All clear, Tony."
The front door slammed.
She waited, sure that it was a trick to lure her out, but then heard the distant wailing of a siren. She mustn't be found here, the whole sordid story would come out. And if she were held as a witness by the police, there was a better than even chance that she would be silenced by members of the organization. Her only hope now was to get out and get out fast.
Jumping out of the wardrobe, she yanked her dress on over her head and, carrying shoes and undergarments, ran for the front room.
The sight that met her eyes almost caused her to faint. Ricky, still looking obscene in death, lay in a growing puddle of blood in the middle of his white rug, the whole side of his head blown away. Halfway to the front door where he had been gunned down, Andy stared lifelessly up at the ceiling.
She darted past them, feeling nothing but fright, and opened the front door. The penthouse corridor was empty. Outside, the siren was coming closer, too close. Above the elevator door, a light glowed to indicate the cage was on the way up. Frantically she glanced around, then bolted for the stairs.
Exactly one minute and thirty seconds later, she was walking past the pool carrying her shoes in her hands. No one paid attention to the windblown dark-haired girl; they all were too busy craning their necks and gawking at the two police cars that had just screeched to a halt in front of the complex.
No one would ever know the monumental self-control it took for Grace to continue her slow pace. She fought the normal desire to run and hide, fought her tears, fought the black wave of unconsciousness that threatened to inundate her at any moment.
She had, fortunately, left her apartment unlocked because she had no key and even if she'd had one her hands were trembling so violently that fitting key into lock would have been a physical impossibility.
She opened the door, closed it behind her, and carefully locked it. Then, swaying like a tall tree in a high wind, she fainted, falling unconscious in a soft heap on the floor.
CHAPTER NINE
Grace had absolutely no idea how long she had remained unconscious, for she had swum reluctantly toward the surface of reality, afraid that if she did awaken, the horrible nightmare would be there to greet her.
Slowly and painfully she staggered to her feet. She hurt all over – vagina, rectum, head, mind! Dully she surveyed her apartment, not really seeing anything in it. Her brain was trying to tell her something, but she was too weary to know what it was saying.
She felt dirty, but she knew she had on her a dirt now that could never be washed off in a shower. And because it was all really too much to think about at the moment, she went into the bedroom and lay face down on the bed.
The children screaming outside awakened her shortly before ten o'clock in the morning. She felt different. Something had changed. She tried to think of what it might be, then felt the slow growth of new hope in her mind as she suddenly realized she was finally free of Ricky and Andy and the debt. This realization made her sit up in bed. Was it true? Could it be true? Oh, God, am I free of those filthy beasts? Have I escaped their trap? Am I… am I a free woman? Instinctively she knew the answer was in the affirmative. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to shout. She wanted to weep from joy.
Quickly she leapt from her bed and went into the front room, really seeing it now for the first time in weeks. This was her home. She was safe here. Reaching up on the mantle, she pulled down Stan's picture and kissed it. She had neglected him terribly, but she had been sick. Now that sickness, that horrible fever was gone, never again to plague her. She would write him two and three times a day to make up for her neglect. And she would be a much better wife in the future. He would never know the torture she had gone through, never know the horrible things she had done, never know that her traitorous body had betrayed him.
Her loving glance around the room and all the familiar wonderful belongings came to rest on the table beside the door. The mail was there, quite a few letters in fact, for she had been too involved to check the mailbox for the last five days, and the manager must have emptied the box for her and brought them upstairs. Suddenly she felt the need to read a letter from Stan, to mentally hear his voice pronouncing the words of love and concern.
She began rifling through the mail. The third letter down was a brown envelope from the Internal Revenue Service. She blinked, then smiled in wide-eyed delight. Their income tax refund! Why… why, there was almost $600 coming back to them, and she had forgotten all about it! It was a sign from the heavens. A blessing. A good luck omen.
Quickly she ripped open the envelope. Yes, it was all there, $584.
Now she truly felt free. It was as though a great cloud had lifted from the face of the sun. There was enough here to pay off everyone of the bad checks she had written. She would do that today, right now… after she took her shower. She would explain to the store managers that there had been just a mistake in addition, which had been discovered – fortunately in time. She knew they would believe her story. The lie had worked with other store managers, it would work with these. Besides, all they would care about was getting their money!
She was singing as she stepped under the shower… feeling a greater happiness than she had felt in months. She felt good physically, mentally, emotionally. It was a beautiful day outside… a splendid day. Really, too good a day to waste in the house. She needed to get outside, to get next to people.
It would take only thirty minutes or so to pay off all the bad checks. When she finished doing that, she would still have almost forty dollars left and a glorious afternoon to spend.
Maybe, she thought with a sudden quickening of breath and pulse, she might even stop by the track… just for a quick race or two…