46
Three Months Later . . .
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“So you're really going to do this?”
“It's time. Besides,you're stepping down. Someone's got to take your place.”
“I'm not really stepping down. I just want to take some time. I want to focus solely on Ben, Michael, and me.”
“I understand.”
“And you're sure that you can leave the field to come behind the desk? Because I'm telling you, it's nowhere near as exciting.”
I put my hand to my face and ran my fingers up and down my three-inch scar. It was a constant reminder of how exciting life could get.
Kyra was dead.
So was her lover, Vivian Johnsonânot Steeleâalong with Shante Richardsânot Huntâand their hired gigolo, Jermain Reeseânot Griffin or Ryan. Their identities were confirmed after their autopsies were conducted. All three of them had priors on their records.
Hurt, but always thinking on my feet, I used the information Vivian had given me about Jermain, and told the police that both Aida and I had been kidnapped. That they'd planned to rape me after they had their way with Aida, who informed them that they had indeed done just that.
Rebecca's side of the story was that she'd been visiting her friend next door and was leaving when she heard screaming coming from the house. At first she was going to ignore it, but then she heard another scream, and this time it sounded like someone said the word, “Help!”
Curiosity getting the best of her, she went to the neighbor's house and knocked on the door until Shante answered. She was asking if everything was all right when another scream for help came from upstairs. Next thing Rebecca knew, Shante was attacking her, trying to drag her inside. Fortunately for Rebecca, she took self-defense classes and was licensed to carry a firearm for protection. She didn't want to do it, but Shante had been trying to kill her, so Rebecca had to shoot her. She was going to call the police, but more screaming came from upstairs and so did smoke. Without giving it a second thought, Rebecca rushed upstairs and found me tied up and Aida on the ground bleeding and about to be cut again by Vivian. She hadn't meant to shoot her in the head, it had just been a lucky shot. She untied me and then the two of us carried Aida out. Rebecca called 9-1-1 after that.
The three of us wanted our identities to remain private, so before the media arrived on the scene, the EMTs took us away to the hospital, where we gave the police our stories and answered all of the questions they had. We were three women, three strangers, who'd survived a harrowing ordeal.
No one doubted us and Rebecca never had to worry about using her gun.
After the fire was put out, the police searched the home looking for any other kidnap victims. They didn't find any, but they did find Myles's body wrapped in a body bag and stuffed in the trunk of one of the cars in the garage. The discovery of Myles's body allowed them to close the case for Kyra Rogers, who'd gone missing months ago.
I said, “I don't need the excitement right now.”
Marlene said, “I think a break from it would do you some good. Who knows, maybe you can take that time to find someone.”
I shook my head.
She would never give up.
As if she'd read my mind, she said, “It can happen, Lisette. Right now your song is just a song. There's no real meaning behind it.”
My song.
“Amado Mio.”
It was playing from my new iPod in the living room. Vivian tried to ruin it for me with her off-key and off-rhythm humming, but she'd failed. We had nothing in common, but through good times and bad, “Amado Mio” and I were joined at the hip. We would last longer than any marriage between a man and woman would.
I said, “I don't do love, Marlene.”
She sighed. “I know, I know. I'm wasting my breath.”
“Yes. You are.”
“One day,” she said, breath wasting and not giving a damn. “One day I'm going to win this argument.”
I smiled.
She was ever the optimist.
“Anyway, how's Aida? I called her, but her phone went directly to voice mail.”
Aida.
I'd watched and approached her nearly a year ago because I'd seen in her things I'd only ever seen when I looked in the mirror. Most women would have caved after going through an experience like the one she'd gone through. But like me, she wasn't most women. She'd been beaten and scarred, but she was now mentally stronger than before. That made her one hell of a force to be reckoned with.
“She's in Hawaii on assignment.”
“Really?”
“A woman wants her husband taken down at his family reunion.”
“Ouch,” Marlene said.
“She wants to humiliate him in front of everyone before she leaves him.”
“Are you sure Aida's up for this? I mean, I know I've asked before if she was OK before, but what she went through . . . I don't know . . . I just don't see how she can't be traumatized.”
“Aida is fine,” I said. “She took what happened, processed it, accepted it, and learned from it.”
“You make her sound like a robot.”
“Not a robot. Just someone who understands the possible consequences of the business she's in.”
“Butâ”
“She's fine, Marlene,” I said. “I wouldn't have let her get into anything if she wasn't.”
“I know. Well . . . what about Rebecca?”
Rebecca.
Of all the places in the world, she'd been at her friend's house that night.
She told me all about how she'd seen me go down and about how she'd gone around the house searching for a way inside, until she eventually had to knock on the front door. A move that eventually saved my life along with Aida's.
Of all the places.
Despite the cold shoulder I'd given her and the messages I hadn't returned, her desire remained strong. Rebecca wanted to be a home wrecker not for the thrill or the control, but because she wanted to truly help those who, for one reason or another, couldn't or just didn't know how to help themselves. Her ex-husband had his mission in life, and thanks to me, she had hers. All I had to do was give her a chance.
She'd killed Shante.
She'd killed Vivian seconds before Vivian could kill Aida.
Of all the places.
With her resolute determination, her will, and her 9 mm pistol, she saved my life. Not being sentimental, but I would always owe her for that.
I said, “Rebecca is better than I thought she'd be.”
“I still can't believe her friend lived right next door,” Marlene said.
“Of all the places,” I replied.
In the background, Marlene's doorbell rang.
“Sounds like you have company.”
“Michael's here to pick me up. He's taking me out to eat at a Japanese restaurant for dinner and then we're going to the movies.”
“Steve's weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“Enjoy.”
“I will. Do you want to come?”
“Good-bye, Marlene.”
I ended the call, shook my head with a smile, and put my phone down.
My song was replaying.
As Chyna Forbes sang, I closed my eyes and thought about what was to come. Marlene was stepping down. I was going to take her place, not because of what had happened, but because it was time. The fire that burned inside of me hadn't gone out, but it had dimmed.
I realized that one day talking with Aida and Rebecca over coffee at Barnes & Noble.
They were both telling me about the new clients they had. Aida had her family reunion to crash and Rebecca's friend Kay had finally reached her breaking point with her husband. The fire in their eyes and the excitement in their voices had been high. They were looking forward to the game play, the manipulation. Things I used to crave.
Until that day.
That day I realized that I needed something different. I needed a new challenge.
I took a breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly.
I thought about Marlene, Steve, Kyra, Myles, Aida, Vivian, Shante, Ryan/Griffin, Rebecca, and all of the others in between.
My life.
From beginning to end, it was one hell of a story. It would make one hell of a movie too.
“Amado Mio.”
I listened to the melody, the piano in the breakdown. I enjoyed the hot water's caress over my skin.
I imagined a scene where a woman sitting at a bar in a hotel slams down her cell phone and curses about her unfaithful husband to a coworker, sitting on a stool beside her. A female coworker. One with telling eyes, sexy lips, and a body made for sin.
The coworker would complain to the female about how her husband was probably off fucking his secretary at that very moment.
The female would watch her frustrated coworker with a disapproving gaze, and after a few minutes, she'd ask one simple question: “Why don't you just set him up?”
“Amado Mio” would be playing from speakers above them.
My life.
It would be one hell of a movie.
Home Wrecker
would be the title.