Part 37 (1/2)

”You will. You'll do it now, or I'll shoot you. I'll shoot you in first one foot and then the other. And then I'll shoot you in the knee. And I'll continue to shoot you until you either do as I tell you or you die.”

She took aim and I knew she was telling the truth. She'd shoot me without a moment's regret. And she'd continue to shoot me until I was dead. I stood, using the table for support. I walked wooden-legged to DeChooch and knelt beside him.

”Do it,” she said. ”Unb.u.t.ton his s.h.i.+rt.”

I put my hand to his chest and felt his warmth, felt him take a shallow breath. ”He's still alive!”

”Even better,” Sophia said.

I gave an involuntary shudder and began unb.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt. One b.u.t.ton at a time. Slowly. Buying time. My fingers feeling stupid and clumsy. Barely able to manage the task.

When I had the s.h.i.+rt unb.u.t.toned, Sophia reached behind her and got a butcher knife from the wooden block on the kitchen counter. She tossed the knife on the floor beside DeChooch. ”Cut his unders.h.i.+rt away.”

I took the knife in hand, feeling the weight of it. If this was television, in one swift move I'd have the knife plunged into Sophia. But this was real life, and I had no idea how to throw a knife or how to move fast enough to beat the bullet.

I put the knife to the white unders.h.i.+rt. My mind was scrambling. My hands were shaking and sweat p.r.i.c.kled at my underarms and scalp. I made the initial stab and then ran the knife the length of the s.h.i.+rt, exposing DeChooch's k.n.o.bby chest. My own chest feeling hot as fire and painfully constricted.

”Now cut his heart out,” Sophia said, her voice quiet and steady.

I looked up at her and her face was serene . . . except for the terrifying eyes. She was confident that she was doing the right thing. Probably had voices in her head rea.s.suring her even as I knelt over DeChooch.

Something dripped onto DeChooch's chest. Either I was drooling or else my nose was running. I was too scared to tell which it was. ”I don't know how to do this,” I said. ” I don't know how to get at the heart.”

”You'll find a way.”

”I can't.”

”You will will!”

I shook my head.

”Would you like to pray before you die?” she asked.

”The room in the cellar . . . did he put you in it often? Did you pray there?”

The serenity left her. ”He said I was crazy, but he he was the one who was crazy. He didn't have faith. G.o.d didn't speak to was the one who was crazy. He didn't have faith. G.o.d didn't speak to him him.”

”He shouldn't have locked you in the room,” I said, feeling a rush of anger at the man who put his schizophrenic wife in a cement cell rather than get her medical attention.

”It's time,” Sophia said, leveling the gun at me.

I glanced down at DeChooch, wondering if I could kill him to save myself. How strong was my sense of survival? I glanced over at the cellar door. ”I have an idea,” I said. ”DeChooch has some power tools in the cellar. I might be able to get through his ribs if I had a power saw.”

”That's ridiculous.”

I jumped up. ”No. It's exactly what I need. I saw this on television. On one of those doctor shows. I'll be right back.”

”Stop!”

I was at the cellar door. ”This will only take a minute.” I opened the door, turned the light on, and moved onto the first step.

She was several paces behind me with the gun. ”Not so fast,” she said. ”I'm going down with you.”

We took the steps together, going slowly, not wanting to misstep. I crossed the cellar and grabbed a portable power saw that was sitting on DeChooch's tool bench. Women want babies. Men want power tools.

”Back upstairs,” she said, agitated at being in the cellar, looking anxious to leave.

I took the stairs slowly again, dragging my feet, knowing she was antsy behind me. I could feel the gun at my back. She was too close. Taking chances because she wanted to get out of the cellar. I got to the top stair and I whirled around, catching her at midchest with the power saw.

She gave a small exclamation, and there was a gunshot that went wild, and then she was tumbling down the stairs. I didn't wait to see the outcome. I jumped through the door, slammed it and locked it, and ran out of the house. I ran through the front door I'd carelessly left unlocked when I'd followed DeChooch into the kitchen.

I pounded on Angela Marguchi's door, yelling for her to open it. The door opened and I almost knocked Angela over in my rush to get in. ”Lock the door,” I said. ”Lock all the doors and get me your mother's shotgun.” Then I ran to the phone and called 911.

The police arrived before I got enough control over myself to go back into the house. No point going in if my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't hold the shotgun.

Two uniforms entered DeChooch's half of the house and minutes later gave the all-clear for the paramedics to enter. Sophia was still in the cellar. She'd broken her hip and probably had some cracked ribs. I thought the cracked ribs were chillingly ironic.

I followed the EMS crew and stopped in my tracks when I got to the kitchen. DeChooch wasn't on the floor.

Billy Kwiatkowski had been the first uniform in. ”Where's DeChooch?” I asked him. ”I left him on the floor by the table.”

”The kitchen was empty when I entered,” he said.

We both looked at the trail of blood leading to the back door. Kwiatkowski switched his flashlight on and walked into the yard. He returned moments later.

”Hard to follow the trail through the gra.s.s in the dark, but there's some blood in the alley behind the garage. It looks to me like he had a car back there and drove off.”

Unbelievable. f.u.c.king unbelievable. The man was like a roach . . . turn the light on and he disappears.

I gave my statement and slipped away. I was worried about Grandma. I wanted to make sure she was safe at home. And I wanted to sit in my mother's kitchen. And most of all, I wanted a cupcake.

LIGHTS WERE BLAZING when I pulled up to my parents' house. Everyone was in the front room watching the news. And if I knew my family, everyone was waiting up for Valerie.

Grandma jumped off the couch when I walked in. ”Did you get him? Did you get DeChooch?”

I shook my head. ”He got away.” I didn't feel like going into a big explanation.

”He's a pip,” Grandma said, sinking back into the couch.

I went into the kitchen to get a cupcake. I heard the front door open and close and Valerie drooped into the kitchen and slumped into a chair at the table. She had her hair slicked back behind her ears and sort of plumped up on top. Blond lesbian impersonator does Elvis.

I put the plate of cupcakes in front of her and took a seat. ”Well? How was your date?”

”It was a disaster. She's not my type.”