winning this one. Dick would tire him out, kill him, and then…and then…
And that’s when Macy stepped up behind Dick and struck him with an empty wine bottle. The impact was heavy. It made a hollow, thudding sound and it stopped Dick. He looked more confused than anything. Then Macy swung it with everything she had and it smashed right over his head in a spray of green glass.
He folded up instantly.
Dazed and disoriented, he tried to crawl across the floor at Macy, groaning and spitting. Louis jumped off the table and kicked him in the side of the head with everything he had. Dick went out cold.
“Thanks, honey,” Louis panted, trying to catch his breath.
“He isn’t dead, is he?” she asked.
Then Dick moaned. Nope, not dead at all.
“We better do something with him,” she said.
Louis smiled at her. Little Macy was no cringing wallflower, not when she got her ire up. There were plenty of teenage girls who would have screamed and ran, but not this girl. If you had to be trapped in a nightmare like this, then Macy was the girl to be trapped with.
Louis reached down and grabbed Dick’s ankles. “Open the door,” he said.
Macy opened the back door and Louis dragged him from the kitchen, grunting and puffing. It was no easy bit. Maybe it looked easy on TV, but in reality dragging a full-grown man around was hard, sweaty work. And Dick was nothing but dead weight.
Louis got him to the steps and let him roll down. He heard Dick’s head bang off the steps, but he didn’t feel a single twinge of guilt over it. With Macy’s help, he dragged him through the grass to the garage. It was no easy trick getting him through the door, but they did it.
“He’s going to thank us for this later,” Louis panted.
He took duct tape and taped Dick’s wrists together behind his back, using a lot of it. Even a madman couldn’t tear his way out. Then he took a length of chain and passed it around Dick’s taped wrists and wound it around a support beam that went from floor to rafters above. He slapped a Masterlock on the chain and that was that.
Macy stared down at Dick. “You heard what he said, Louis. About his wife. About Nancy.”
“I heard.”
Louis hoped it wasn’t true, but he figured it was.
Nancy, for godsake.
She was one of the nicest people you could hope to meet. When Michelle and he had moved into the neighborhood, she had been the first one at the door. She brought over a wicker basket with a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread in it. That’s the kind of person she was.
Outside, Louis tried Michelle’s number on her cell. Nothing.
“Maybe she’s still at work.”
Louis shrugged. “She should have been home an hour ago even if she worked late.”
But he dialed up Farm Bureau anyway. It couldn’t hurt. It was answered on the fourth ring and Louis brightened a bit. “Hello? Carol? Carol, is that you?”
Carol was Michelle’s boss. “Who’s this?”
“Louis. Louis Shears.”
“What do you want?”
Louis was not feeling so bright now. He could hear it in Carol’s voice: the madness. It didn’t have her all the way yet, but she was close. Just teetering on the brink of darkness.
“Is Michelle still there?”
“No, she’s not here. I’m here.”
“Carol, when did she leave?”
“Who cares? What do you want her for, anyway?” There was a smacking sound on the other end that might have been Carol licking her lips. “I’m here, Louis. Why don’t you come down. I’ll wait for you.”
Louis hung up. “C’mon, Macy, let’s get out of here.”
They ran to the car, but Louis already had the feeling that he was simply too late…
34
“I don’t want to go crazy again,” Macy said as they pulled away from the house. “I don’t want to feel like that again.”
Louis licked his lips, wondering if he should ask what he needed to ask. “Was it…was it very bad?”
Macy just stared straight ahead, but didn’t seem to be so much looking out as looking in. She nodded her head slightly. “It was horrible. It was kind of blurry before, but now I’m remembering more. I mean, I knew what I did, I could recall it all right, but I couldn’t make sense of it.”
“But now you can?”
She nodded. “Yes, I can. I never liked Chelsea…that’s the girl I attacked…I didn’t like her then and I don’t like her now. She’s just a preppy, stuck-up bitch. I know I shouldn’t say that, but that’s all she ever was. She treated me like dirt. Always had. I never did anything to her, I never smarted off to her…nothing. But she always hated me, always had it in for me. She’s just one of those people, right? Oh, look at me, look at how wonderful I am. I’m popular and special so that gives me the right to turn my nose up at everyone and be a snotty, uppity witch. So, yeah, I guess I hated her. I think most kids do, except for the idiots in her little posse and all the boys that drool over her.”
“And you think the way you felt about her, that had something to do with it?”
Macy wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah, I think so. Something in me always hated her, you know?”
Louis nodded. “I know, believe me, I know. Kids like Chelsea are nothing new, Macy. They’ve always been around, always treating other kids like shit. There were plenty of them when I was in school, too. Most of ‘em need a good kick in the ass or a good slap across the face, but they never get it. The social elite. Most of ‘em have money and think they’re better than everyone else. That kind of nonsense starts at home and if the parents don’t jump all over it when they see it, it only gets worse and worse and then what you have is a monster on your hands.”
No, Louis did not have kids of his own, but plenty of his friends did and he saw it first hand. Spoiled, demanding, snotty brats that became impossible teenagers. Parents usually spoiled kids out of love, but that was the wrong kind of love. They weren’t doing them any favors by letting them think they were better than anyone else and that the whole world simply existed for their convenience. Louis didn’t know Chelsea Paris-thank God-but he’d known plenty of others like her. Kids so wrapped up in themselves and their own fleeting teenage food chain, spoiled and bossy and whiny, that when graduation came and they were thrust out into the real world, they were totally unprepared for it.
You were the most popular kid in school, eh? Prom queen? Cheerleader? Varsity quarterback? You knew all the right people and moved in all the right circles?
So what?
Once you stepped out of high school, the world at large did not care. It did not exist to assuage your ego or worship you or hand you things on basis of who you knew and who you blew. All that snotty, selfish, uppity behavior came back to bite you in the ass.
Show me a snobby little teen princess, Louis thought, and I’ll show you a girl in for real trouble, in for a very rude awakening.
“Well, that’s Chelsea, all right,” Macy said. “A monster from hell. Her and Shannon Kittery and all the rest.”
“Kittery, eh? Her mom must be Rosemary Kittery. I went to school with her. She married Ron Kittery. Back then she was just Rosemary Summers. Great to look at, but with all the personality of a rattlesnake. Cheerleader, prom queen, the works. A petite little blonde with a big set of…ah, well the boys liked her. Ron Kittery was a stoner in school. Just a total waste. Rosemary wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence. Then she got out of high school and found herself in the real world. Ron’s mom and dad had money, Rosemary’s old man-Shannon’s grandpa-was broke. He was president of First Federal, but they lived way beyond their means and he started embezzling. He was
