Claudia Must Die (8 page)

The three travelers sat around a table big enough to seat eight. None of them were comfortable sitting close to each other. Francis wanted to keep an eye on both women. He didn’t want Claudia to make a break for it, and he didn’t want Parker to have another breakdown. What in the hell had she meant by “The cookie may have been poisoned”?

Claudia trusted Francis more than Parker. She sensed that Parker wanted to snap her neck at the first available opportunity. When she first decided to invade Parker’s life, she thought the student had zero passion. Now she realized how wrong she was. Hatred bubbled under Park’s dull surface like a dormant geyser ready to spring back to life. How much longer until Parker exploded?

Parker didn’t want to be around either of them. Why had she said the cookie was poisoned? Had that incident made her mom kill herself? It wasn’t until then that she realized how much guilt she suppressed. She kept no photos or mementos in her apartment precisely to distance herself from such culpability. Even if she kept only photos of her grandparents on display, when she saw them, her mind wandered to her mom. Parker never could quite figure out why the memories upset her, but she soon decided to pack up all of the photos, knickknacks—everything that had anything to do with her family—and put the stuff into storage. She never intended to get it out of storage, but each month, she paid the bill.

Parker probably never would have realized her deep-seated guilt if Claudia hadn’t jumped into the car. Actually, if Claudia had never plotted to kill her, Ida would still be alive, the boys’ cousin wouldn’t be in trouble, and Parker wouldn’t have met Francis, so she wouldn’t have flipped her lid. Sure, he said “half-wit,” but Parker knew what he meant. Why had she said that about the cookie! Now Parker was dealing with Ida’s death
and
the guilt about her mom. She was at her breaking point.

The waitress approached and took their orders. It was late at night, but the place was open twenty-four hours a day. They each ordered coffee and nothing else.

The waitress rolled her eyes. Why didn’t they just drive through McDonald’s and not waste her time?

“So, Claudia, why don’t you tell us why we shouldn’t kill you?” Francis got right to the point. For all the hours they had spent in the car, no one had spoken. But Francis couldn’t hold it in anymore.

When he had determined to kill Claudia earlier that day, he hadn’t known she would make it so easy for him.

Claudia looked to Francis and then to Parker. How in the world could she get herself out of this? “It wasn’t personal.”

Parker scoffed. “You set me up!”

Francis motioned for Parker to keep it down.

“But I didn’t see it that way,” Claudia whined.

Parker crossed her arms and stared her doppelgänger down, not blinking. “How is getting me murdered not personal?”

“Can I tell you why?”

“Can you bring Ida back?” Parker retorted. Then she reached for her fork and tried to stab Claudia from across the table.

Francis was quick to react.

Claudia sat frozen in her chair. Francis looked around to see how many patrons had noticed as he casually removed any sharp objects from Parker’s reach. Fortunately, the place was nearly empty.

Parker placed her hands together as if she was praying and rested her elbows on the table. She closed her eyes and propped her head up with her hands. Sighing deeply, Parker looked as though she was asking God to help her control her impulses. In fact, she was thinking of a way to kill Claudia while Francis wasn’t looking.

The waitress had noticed the commotion. “Oh dear, Carl. Looks like we have another lover’s quarrel.” In her years of waitressing, Celia had seen it all. A love triangle between two sisters and one man didn’t shock her. It was obvious the women were twins; they looked almost identical. Celia had determined that all fights boiled down to two issues: money and jealously. She’d bet all her tips for the month that the husband had slept with his wife’s sister.

Francis eyed the praying Parker and decided to settle the matter once and for all. “Okay, Claudia, we’ll listen to your reason.” He shushed Parker’s complaints and continued, “But it better be damn good. I don’t know how much longer I can keep her”—he motioned to Parker—“in control. And I really can’t blame her.”

Claudia avoided looking in the student’s direction, relaying her story to Francis instead. Claudia knew she had to put on a show. Her life depended on it. Her mother always told her she was dramatic, and Claudia hoped her skills wouldn’t let her down at the moment. However, when she spoke of her unborn child, she wept real tears. Neither Francis nor Parker shed a tear, but Francis’s eyes softened somewhat. Claudia couldn’t tell whether Parker felt any empathy. She never looked over at the student, but the vibe she got wasn’t giving Claudia a warm, fuzzy feeling.

***

Francis came up with a plan. All three of them, and Fritz, would drive to Colorado to take care of Dennis. Anyone who would stomp his unborn child to death had to be dealt with first. As for Claudia, the former military man had no idea what he should do. Earlier, he had wanted to kill her. After hearing her story, he still wanted to wring her neck, but he also felt sorry for her.

According to MapQuest, the drive would take more than thirty hours. Long hours didn’t bother Francis, but thirty hours of driving would be hard. They would have to stay in a hotel one night, and even though Francis hated sharing a room, all three of them would have to stay together. He might have to drug Parker to keep her from murdering Claudia when he wasn’t standing guard, which meant picking up some sleeping pills along the way and slipping them into Parker’s drink. For now, he wanted Claudia alive for the simple reason that it would make it easier to hunt down her husband. He secretly hoped Claudia would be smart enough to escape after Dennis was gone. Parker would never have the will to track her down—at least he hoped so.

Parker wanted Claudia dead. Yeah, Claudia had it bad, Parker reasoned. Her marriage sounded horrible, and no woman should be treated that way. But Parker could not get over the knowledge that Ida was dead because of Claudia. If Ida hadn’t been killed, the story would be different. It had become an
idée fixe
. Claudia had to die, no matter what, and Parker would not rest until she finished the job.

Claudia wasn’t exactly thrilled with the turn of events either, but she felt as if she had no alternative. She trusted Francis somewhat; Parker, not at all. When Francis wasn’t looking, Parker would make threatening gestures, miming slitting Claudia’s throat or shooting her.

After several hours of driving, Francis needed a break. He checked into a Best Western. When the front desk clerk saw the twins with him, he gave Francis a suggestive wink. “Would you like just one bed, sir?”

Francis could never tolerate machismo. “No. Two beds and a cot, please.” He wanted to punch the clerk in the face for his rudeness, yet he decided the best course was not to draw too much attention to the trio.

The slimy clerk ruffled a hand through his greasy hair and then rubbed his pockmarked chin, looking crestfallen. His personal life never lived up to his own expectations, so he lived vicariously through the guests who checked into the hotel. Whenever he placed a call for a hooker for a client, he felt on top of the world. Francis had crushed the man’s hopes for the night. He didn’t see too many threesomes in his hotel, and he couldn’t wait to brag to his buddies about it. Twins!

“Of course, sir. Will you need anything else?” The clerk did his best to hide his disdain.

“Are there any 24-hour pharmacies nearby?” asked Francis.

Although he didn’t want to drug Parker, Francis knew he had to. If she didn’t sleep, he wouldn’t be able to either, since he would have to be vigilant to ensure she didn’t kill Claudia.

“If you take a left out of the parking lot and then a right at Dunkin’ Donuts, you’ll find a CVS.”

Francis nodded his thanks and ushered the women back to the car. “I have a headache,” he explained. “I need some painkillers.”

Claudia, who hadn’t been prepared for the road trip, welcomed the chance to pick up a toothbrush and other incidentals. Parker wished they were in Texas, so she could buy an Uzi and blow Claudia to bits. The image brought a cheerful smile to her face. Oh, how she wished she was in a Tarantino film.

Ida loved
Pulp Fiction
and
Reservoir Dogs.
When she had first watched the movies, Parker had thought the violence too graphic, too fake; now, she longed to be able to pull the trigger and watch Claudia’s flesh, muscle, bone, and other gore splatter the wall. Maybe Tarantino had lost a loved one early in life and that explained why he made those movies.

Parker wandered down the magazine and book aisle. A book cover featuring three drops of blood caught her attention.
In Cold Blood.
Without giving it a second thought, she snatched the copy off the shelf and wandered to the cashier to complete the purchase. Years back, she had heard of the novel, but had never before felt the desire to read it. Perhaps now she wanted to learn from it. Leaning against a pole outside the store, Parker opened to the first page.

When Francis and Claudia emerged from the store together, Claudia stopped in her tracks, noticing the book in Parker’s hands. Parker tapped the cover menacingly. Francis shook his head, a blend of disgust and amusement twinkling in his eyes.

The next stop was the liquor store. He wanted a beer, and he knew that Parker wouldn’t turn down a gin and tonic. Back in the hotel, Francis crushed some sleeping pills into Parker’s drink. When she greedily accepted it, Francis wondered, for the first time, whether she might be an alcoholic. Ida had never hinted at it, but he doubted that the lovers spent that much time together. Ida had been a workaholic who traveled quite a bit, and Parker loved her space. They were perfectly suited for each other.

Parker showered and then settled into bed with her second drink and her book. Francis sat in the chair, watching the parking lot. He felt confident they hadn’t been followed, but it was wise to be cautious.

Claudia walked into the bathroom and stopped dead in her tracks. The mirror was fogged from Parker’s shower, and the student had left a message there for Claudia: a drawing of a body hanging from a noose. Claudia hurried through her bathroom routine and collapsed into bed. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. When she was stressed, Claudia’s body craved sleep, and there was no fighting it.

Twenty minutes later, Francis heard Parker’s glass fall to the floor. She had fallen asleep while reading. The book rested on her face, the cover poking her eyelid. Francis wondered whether he had given her too many pills. Removing the book from Parker’s face, he glanced at the cover. He was going to have his hands full keeping Parker in line.

Climbing onto the cot, and under the covers, Francis then placed his gun under the pillow. The cot blocked the entrance. If anyone tried to get in, he would know instantly. All he needed was a couple of hours sleep. The military had trained him well in that regard. Two hours later, the Irishman would be ready to go—full steam ahead for the next fifteen to eighteen hours.

Chapter Fourteen

The sleeping pills turned out to be more powerful than Francis had intended. It took him ten minutes just to wake Parker up.

All the while, Claudia had secretly hoped the student had died in her sleep. When they left the hotel and walked through the parking lot, Francis had to help prop Parker up. Her legs were jelly. It was like escorting a drunk Gumby.

Francis and the ladies stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast. He didn’t want to go inside the joint, but Parker had to pee. As soon as she had roused from her sleeping-pill-induced coma, the student had guzzled several glasses of water. She said her brain felt foggy and believed flushing her body with water would get rid of whatever bug was knocking on the door.

At the counter, Parker ordered four large orange juices. Francis wanted to cancel the order, but he felt responsible for Parker’s fears of illness. He had not realized, before today, that she was a hypochondriac. He also did not know that Parker had never been sick a day in her life. Every year, the student received a perfect attendance award at school. So when Parker awoke feeling so crappy, she was convinced she had cancer—or worse.

At the table, Parker slurped her second orange juice. “I think it was poisoned,” she mumbled. She rested one elbow on the table, supporting her head with one hand. Every few seconds, she rubbed her eyes and then blinked, hoping to snap out of her funk. “I’m positive she poisoned my cookie.” Parker tried to raise her free hand to point at Claudia, but her limp arm fell hard onto the table, upsetting one of the orange juices. Then Parker’s face slammed into the table, too, and she was out like a light.

Claudia and Francis shared a look. Francis wondered whether Claudia suspected he had drugged Parker. Claudia worried that Francis might believe Parker’s mumbled accusations.

“I think we should let Parker sleep off her gin,” Francis said, so sincerely that even he briefly believed his own words.

Claudia nodded. She had no patience for drunks, and a drunk that was out to kill her terrified the bejesus out her.

Heads turned as Francis carried Parker back to the car.

“Such a shame,” an older woman said with a tsk. “An alcoholic at such a young age.”

Claudia nodded to the woman. “She just won’t accept help.”

Francis laid Parker on the backseat and bunched up some of his shirts to make her a pillow. Even before he turned the key in the ignition, Parker was snoring loudly. At least he didn’t have to worry about her attacking Claudia for the time being.

***

Five hours later, Parker stirred in the backseat. Claudia peeked around her seat and studied Parker’s groggy face. At first, Parker smiled, but realization soon flooded her eyes. The student lunged for Claudia, placing her hands around Claudia’s neck, starting to squeeze and shake the life out of her. Francis swerved into the emergency lane, cutting off a Ford pickup, which blared its horn as it almost careened into an Amish man driving a horse-drawn buggy. The Amish man shook his fist at Francis, but the cousin took little notice; he was too busy wrestling Parker away from Claudia.