Chapter 88
I’ve downed three glasses of wine already, and I’m now on my fourth, but strangely, I’m not feeling the effects of the alcohol.
Maybe because the forced drinking session is a prelude to my murder.
From the en suite, I can hear the sound of running water.
Dawn is filling the soaking tub for my grand exit.
Dr. Burgess stands with an orange pill bottle in his hand.
The prescription I didn’t know I needed.
I wonder if anyone will question the pills that are about to cause my death, prescribed by a doctor who also happens to be my neighbor.
Or did he somehow cover up his involvement in acquiring the medication?
I guess it doesn’t matter, because dead is dead, regardless of what happens to the rest of the people in this room after I’m gone.
The slim chance that they’ll be caught is scant comfort, under the circumstances.
I linger with the wine, sipping as slowly as I can, because I know what will happen when the glass is empty.
But Catherine is losing her patience. “Hurry up and finish that. This has gone on long enough. We need to get you into the bathtub.”
Ah, yes. The final indignity. Being forced into the tub.
Then will come the pills, pushed down my throat whether I want to take them or not, and probably followed by whatever remains of the wine.
After that, I’ll slip away, my consciousness fading into oblivion.
At least it will be painless, unlike getting shot.
I take another small sip.
Catherine shakes her head. “This is ridiculous.” She motions to Jamie. “Take the glass. She can drink the rest afterward, even if we have to hold her nose and pour it down her throat.”
Jamie steps forward and plucks the glass from my hand. “I’ll be happy when this is done and I can go back to bed. It’s almost three in the morning.”
Kalina looks at Frank. “If your wife had done what she was supposed to, we’d all be tucked up in bed by now.”
Frank returns her gaze with a glowering look of his own. “I told you Jennifer was having second thoughts. Maybe you should have left someone else down here to watch her.”
“We had to know if Jennifer could still be trusted,” Catherine says. “Now we have our answer.”
“We’ll deal with Jennifer next,” Dr. Burgess says.
“You’re not touching my wife.” Frank turns to the doctor, his fists clenched.
“Relax.” Catherine steps between them. “Nobody is going to lay a finger on Jennifer; I give you my word. We’ll have a little chat, warn her about the consequences of causing any more trouble. We’re all in this together.”
“Speaking of which, let’s get it over with.” Dr. Burgess turns toward me.
Jamie grabs my arm and hauls me to my feet.
The sudden movement makes my head spin, and I realize that the wine is affecting me after all.
Burgess takes my other arm, gripping it so tightly that I let out a yelp.
They start toward the bedroom and the en suite, dragging me when I refuse to help them by walking on my own.
My thoughts turn to Sam, and a lump rises in my throat, cutting through the haze.
If I don’t do something, I’ll be dead an hour from now, my lifeless nude body sitting in a tub of cold, still water.
I don’t want him to find me like that. When we reach the door, I somehow manage to grab the frame and hold on for dear life.
“Dammit.” Burgess curses and tries to wrench me free, but I’ve found a strength I didn’t know I had. I dig my heels in to stop them pulling me any farther. My fingers curl around the molding, nails digging into the wood. “Let go. You’re only making it harder on yourself.”
I have no intention of letting go, because the moment I do, it’s over.
“Fucking bitch,” Jamie mutters under his breath.
He grabs my index finger, then pries it away from the doorframe until I cry out.
And still I don’t release my grip. I grit my teeth and clench my fist, holding on harder with my other fingers, as tears push from the corners of my eyes.
But he isn’t giving up so easily. He takes hold of my pinkie and yanks it back hard.
There’s a sudden sharp pain in my knuckle, and I fear he might have broken it.
I cry out and release my grip on the doorframe.
“About time,” Jamie exclaims. “We should have killed her first, then dumped her in the tub.”
“It has to look like she drowned,” Burgess says. “If she was already dead, there wouldn’t be any water in her lungs.”
“Yeah. Well, this is ridiculous. Even with a bottle of wine in her, she’s still a pain in the ass.”
“Quit grumbling.” Burgess glances toward the en suite, where Dawn is waiting. “Help me get her onto the bed so we can undress her.”
The words are like a knife cutting through my inebriation.
An image of Sam standing in the bathroom doorway, staring at my watery corpse, flashes through my mind.
My arms are restrained, so I use the only weapon I’ve got.
My mouth. I twist and find Jamie’s ear, bite down, my teeth sinking into the soft skin of his earlobe.
Now it’s his turn to scream. He releases me, one hand flying to his ruined ear.
There’s a coppery taste in my mouth. Blood. And something else. A piece of Jamie’s skin. I spit it out in disgust.
At that moment, I hear the sound of a dead bolt disengaging. Then the front door swings wide, and Sam is standing there.