Authors: John Locke
Willow and Cameron.
Friday, 1:15 p.m.
WILLOW AND CAMERON pay no attention to the dark Lexus till it turns into Chris Fowler’s driveway.
As the garage door opens, the girls snap to attention.
“Wrong car!” Willow says.
“Are you sure he was driving a Mercedes?”
“Positive.”
“We did a couple of lines, remember.”
“True. And it was dark.” She frowns. “It was definitely a luxury sedan.”
Cameron says, “I think you’re right about the Mercedes. Could they own three cars?”
The Lexus enters the garage, and they watch the door close behind it.
“They’re pretty rich,” Willow says. “The house has to be at least seven-fifty. And they’ve got a three-car garage. It’s possible.”
“So Chris isn’t here?”
“Unless she picked him up.”
“Maybe we should just forget it,” Cameron says.
“Are you
kidding
me? I’m already in deep shit with Bobby. If I don’t bring home nine hundred-sixty bucks, he’ll kill me.”
Cameron shakes her head. “You’re so pretty. And smart. You shouldn’t have to put up with that shit.”
“Tell Bobby, okay?”
“He’s abusive.”
“Ya think?”
They’re quiet a moment.
Willow says, “Let’s bring this thing to a head.”
“What do you mean?”
“Follow my lead.”
They get out of the car, walk to the front door, ring the bell.
A woman opens the door and says, “May I help you?”
Willow says, “You’re Kathy? Chris Fowler’s wife?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
“Is Chris here?”
She looks them over. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Willow Breeland, and this is Cameron Mason.”
“And how do you know my husband?”
Willow and Cameron exchange a look, then notice the concern in Kathy’s face.
“I think you should leave,” Kathy says.
She starts to close the door, but Willow wedges her foot inside the frame, pulls Bobby’s 9 millimeter from her purse and sticks it in Kathy’s face.
Kathy says, “Oh, God!” and backs into her living room.
Willow and Cameron follow her in, and Cameron locks the door.
“Jesus, Willow!” Cameron says.
“Please,” Kathy says. “Take whatever you want.”
“You told her our
names
!” Cameron says.
Willow sighs. “I know.
Shit
!”
Kathy says, “We’ve got a safe in the bedroom closet.”
“Shut up!” Willow says. “I need to think.”
Kathy backs up to the couch and sits down. She’s shaking so hard her teeth are chattering.
Cameron says, “Show us the safe.”
They head back to the bedroom, but when they reach the hall, Willow says “Shhh!” and makes them stop.
To Kathy she whispers, “Who’s back there?”
“N-no one.”
“Then why do I hear water running?”
“I was running water for my bath. I’ve been out of town and—”
“I’ll check it out,” Cameron says. “If I scream, shoot Kathy. Then come get me.”
Willow’s eyes get big, but not as big as Kathy’s.
“Want to change your story about running water for the bath?” Cameron says.
Kathy shakes her head no.
Cameron disappears into the bedroom.
“Please,” Kathy whispers. “You’re not like her. I can
feel
it.”
“Please be quiet,” Willow says.
“Don’t let her kill me!” Kathy says.
“We’re not going to kill you. We just want what’s ours.”
“What does that mean?” Kathy says.
Before Willow can answer, Cameron comes back in the hallway and says, “She was telling the truth.”
“You didn’t turn off the water?” Willow says.
“We’ll turn it off in a minute. First, let’s see how much money they’ve got.”
It takes three tries, but Kathy finally gets the safe open, and Willow counts out fifteen hundred in fifties and twenties.
“That’s it?” she says.
“There are some gold coins in the back,” Kathy says. “And jewelry.”
“Too risky,” Cameron says.
Willow looks at the cash, then at Cameron. Her lip quivers, thinking about the beating she’s going to get. She’s about to cry.
“You can have my half,” Cameron says.
“No. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“You can pay me back later. There’s enough here to pay Bobby and still put five hundred into our secret fund.”
“You’re the best, Cameron.”
“You too.”
They look at Kathy.
Cameron says, “She knows our names.”
“I know. I’m
sorry
!”
“Please,” Kathy says. “There’s no need to hurt me. I won’t say a word.”
Willow frowns. “That is such bullshit!”
She turns to her friend. “Talk to me, Cam.”
Cameron says, “Give me the gun.”
Willow says, “You can’t just shoot her.”
“No. But I can make her walk into the bathroom.”
Kathy says, “You don’t need the gun. I’ll go in the bathroom.”
The three women enter the bathroom where two of them showered ten hours ago. Willow notices a different facecloth on the shower bench, which means Chris probably cleaned up before leaving. Cameron points at the large whirlpool tub on the far side of the room and says, “Get on your hands and knees, and lean your head over the edge of the tub.”
Kathy pauses.
“Hand me the gun, Willow,” Cameron says.
She does, then turns off the water.
“Please,” Kathy says. “I’m begging you. Don’t shoot me!”
“I’m not going to shoot you.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“We’re going to tie your hands behind your back and you’re going to give us two full hours before calling anyone.”
“I won’t tell a soul about this. Not even Chris.”
Willow says, “It’s Chris’s fault this happened in the first place!”
Kathy’s confused, but she lowers herself to the floor and gets on her hands and knees. She positions her neck over the side of the tub and puts her hands behind her back.
“What can we tie her with?” Willow says.
“They’ve got phones in the bedroom and kitchen. Remove the phone cords while I keep an eye on Kathy,” Cameron says. “But hurry!”
“Okay.”
When Willow leaves the room, Cameron smashes the side of Kathy’s head with the gun butt.
Kathy’s arms start to jerk. She tries to raise up. Cameron puts her mouth next to Kathy’s ear and whispers, “Do you have any idea what your husband did to us? It’s payback time, bitch!”
She slams the butt of the gun against Kathy’s head again, and her body goes slack. Cameron locks her arm under Kathy’s left armpit and tries to hoist her up over the edge of the tub into the water.
But she’s too heavy.
Knowing Willow will be back any minute, Cameron gets on the floor and works her shoulders under Kathy’s legs and pushes upward. Of course this action requires Cameron’s face to be pressed into Kathy’s butt, and she thinks if Willow walks in at this precise moment she’ll wonder what the hell Cameron’s doing to the lady of the manor.
It’s not pleasant, but it’s the only way she can raise Kathy high enough to get her head under water.
It works.
Kathy’s waist is on the edge of the tub, her face in the water.
Cameron scrambles to her feet and pushes Kathy’s head in deeper and holds it there. Moments later Willow enters the room with the phone cords in her hand and screams, “Omigod! You killed her!”
“I had to!”
“No! Jesus, Cam! Let her up!”
Willow turns off the water.
Cameron says, “She tried to kill me!”
“What? How?”
“She pushed her body against me, tried to knock me down.”
“Omigod! I shouldn’t have left you here alone.”
“It’s okay. I hit her with the gun.”
Willow looks around. “There’s not much blood.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Jesus, Cam.”
“I panicked.”
“You drowned her?”
“It started off like self-defense. But I was so scared! I just kept pushing her head down to keep her from getting to me.”
“Omigod! You poor thing!”
Willow notices Cameron is still holding Kathy’s head under water.
“Is she—”
Cameron starts crying.
Willow says, “You had to do it. If she’d gotten hold of the gun she could’ve killed you.”
“I killed someone!” Cameron says, between sobs.
“It’s my fault. You didn’t even want to be here. It’s my fault she’s dead.”
“My life’s over,” Cameron says.
“No. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure something out.”
“If they catch us, you’ll tell.”
“No.”
Willow sits on the side of the tub and says, “Let go of her, Cam.”
“I’m afraid to.”
“It’s okay. I’ll hold her under.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my friend,” Willow says. “And we’re in this together.”
Cameron releases her grip, and Kathy’s head bobs to the surface. But her face remains submerged.
“She’s already dead,” Cameron says.
“You never know.”
“Yes you do.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Willow takes over and pushes Kathy’s face deeper into the water and holds it there for five minutes. Then both girls stand and hug each other and cry.
Cameron finally says, “You never touched the safe, right?”
“Right.”
“Or anything else?”
“Just the tub and faucet handles. And the phone cords.”
“And I touched the inside door knob and the lock.”
“There’s blood on the tub, but not the bathroom floor,” Willow says.
“Guess I got her over the tub so fast she didn’t have time to bleed on the floor.”
“That’s good.”
“
Shit
!” Cameron says.
“What?”
“We showered last night, and fucked her husband on the bed. And both of us were on the chair. You think he flushed the condoms?”
They go back in the bedroom and look around.
The bed is made, the room neat, the gun back in the drawer with the remaining unwrapped condoms.
“Let’s not take any chances,” Cameron says.
“What do you mean?”
“We should strip the bed and wipe down all the surfaces, vacuum the chair and floor, and clean the shower.”
“What about the vacuum cleaner?”
“Good point. We’ll need to take it with us.”
“We’ll also need to wipe your prints off the front door.”
“And yours off the telephones and the cords. After we put them back like they were.”
“You look for the vacuum cleaner,” Willow says. “I’ll find a trash bag for the sheets, spread, and pillow cases.”
“First, flush all the toilets.”
“Why?”
“To make sure the condoms haven’t stopped them up.”
“Good idea.”
Twenty minutes later Willow exits the front door, carrying the trash bag. Cameron’s right behind her, carrying the vacuum cleaner, closing the door. Willow looks around to see if any neighbors are about, but sees no one. She walks ten feet before realizing Cameron hasn’t caught up to her. She turns to see what’s taking her friend so long to get her butt in gear and sees Cameron standing on the front porch, staring directly into the security camera.
“WE’RE SCREWED,” CAMERON says.
Willow rushes back to Cameron’s side.
“No problem,” she says.
“No problem? Are you
shitting
me?”
She points to the camera.
Willow says, “We’ll go inside, find the surveillance tape, and pull it out of the machine.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I just locked the front door.”
“We could break in the back,” Willow says. “It won’t be that hard. There’s a sliding glass door and—”
The suddenness of Willow’s pause makes Cameron turn to look at her. Willow’s staring at the camera, smiling.
“We’re screwed, and you’re standing here making a fucking movie?”
“It’s a fake camera,” Willow says.
“Are you
crazy
?
”
“Bobby used to sell and install security systems, remember?”
“So?”
“Half the cameras he installed were fakes.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Most customers were too cheap to spring for the full system. And nine out of ten burglars don’t know the difference between real and fake cameras.”
“Is that true?”
“Probably not. But it’s what Bobby told the clients.”
“So when he couldn’t sell the real thing he talked them into buying the fakes?”
“Exactly. For ten cents on the dollar.”
“And you’re certain this one’s a fake?”
“Positive. We’ve got a dozen just like them in our apartment.”
“Seriously Willow? Because if you’re wrong it’s our asses.”
“Seriously. Now let’s get out of here!”
They walk briskly to the car, climb in, and start driving to Willow’s apartment.
“What about the bedding?” Cameron says.
“We should take it to a laundromat and wash and dry it. Then take it to my place, cut everything into small pieces with scissors, and scatter the pieces in dumpsters all over town.”
“I’ve got a better idea. We’ll wash and dry it and put it in your trunk. After work, we’ll take it to my parent’s house. They’ve got a fire pit. We’ll burn it while making smores.”
“What about the vacuum cleaner?”
“Pull over, and we’ll dump out the dust. I need a sweeper anyway. I’ll take it home and wash it from top to bottom, hose and everything.”
“I like the idea of cleaning it,” Willow says. “But keeping it? What if the police show up?”
“Good point. Okay, I’ll wash it out this afternoon. You’ll pick me up and drive me to work and we’ll put the sweeper in your trunk. After work we’ll toss it in a dumpster on our way to my parents’ house.”
An hour later they fold the warm sheets, pillow cases and blanket, and place everything back in the trash bag and put it in Willow’s trunk. They ride quietly back to Cameron’s duplex.
Still in the car with the doors locked, Cameron says, “We’ll never speak of this again, no matter what. If something happens and the police put us in separate interrogation rooms, we won’t flip on each other.”
“They always lie and say the other person ratted you out.”
“But we won’t flip on each other.”
“No.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear. Now you.”
“I swear.”
They sit in the car a minute, thinking about what they’ve done.
Then Willow says, “Chris Fowler.”
“What about him?”
“He’ll know we did it.”
“He won’t have any reason to suspect us,” Cameron says.
“He will. Last night was a big deal. He’ll come home, find his wife murdered, see the safe open. He’ll wonder who would do such a thing.”
“Us?”
Willow nods.
“So?”
“He knows where we work.”
Cameron thinks a minute, then says, “He won’t want to admit what happened last night.”
“He’ll have to. He’s the prime suspect.”
“Not if he’s got a great alibi. He’s at work, right? Wherever that is, there must be a dozen people who can vouch for his whereabouts.”
“If they can establish a proper timeline.”
“They always—oh shit!” Cameron says.
“What now?”
Willow turns to her left just in time to see Bobby smash his fist against her window.
She screams.
“Get out!” He shouts. “Right now. Both of you!”
Cameron says, “Drive away, Willow.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. He’s bombed out of his mind. Drive away and wait till he crashes. He’ll probably forget the whole thing.”
Bobby punches the window again. “Lower the fucking window!”
“No!” Willow shouts. “Not till you calm down!”
“Lower the window
now
!”
“Not till you calm down. You’re totally wasted. I’m getting out of here.”
She looks into the rear view mirror, reaches her hand toward the steering column to put the car in reverse, but he punches the window twice.
“Stop it!” Willow yells. “You’re going to break your
hand
!”
“You’re worried about his
hand
?” Cameron says. “
Jesus
, Willow!”
“Lower the fucking window!” Bobby shouts.
“Not till you calm down!”
He pauses. “Okay. Okay, fine,” he says. “I’m calming. I’m calming.”
The girls watch Bobby relax his posture, then his facial features, until he looks like a demented choirboy.
“I liked him better the other way,” Cameron says.
“See how I live?” Willow says.
She lowers the window two inches and says, “What the fuck was that all about?”
“I need a ride.”
“How’d you get here?”
“I borrowed a guy’s car.”
“What guy?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Willow unlocks the doors, Bobby climbs in the back, behind her.
She says, “
Why
are you here?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Well, I’ve got your money.”
“You’ve been gone all day.”
“I was trying to score some blow for you.”
“Where is it?”
“I couldn’t find Chuckie. We looked everywhere.”
“Right. Just start the car and drive where I tell you.”
“Forgetting something?” Cameron says. “I live here. See you later, Willow.”
She reaches for the door handle, but Bobby grabs her by the hair.
She kicks and screams, but he works his other hand around her throat to cut off her air.
Willow shouts, “Let her go!”
With one quick motion Bobby pulls Cameron into the back seat and punches her face.
“You
bastard
!” Cameron gasps.
She hits him back, splits his lip.
“Bitch!” Bobby yells, and smashes her temple.
Cameron’s head bounces off the window. Her body goes slack.
Willow shouts, “What are you
doing
? What the fuck’s
wrong
with you?”
“
Wrong
with me?
Wrong
with
me
? If you don’t start the car and drive where I tell you, I’ll snap her chicken neck right now.”
Willow starts the car and waits for Bobby’s directions.
“Drive to Ream’s Park,” he says.